


L&C Do Europe

by roxymissrose



Category: Smallville
Genre: AU, Angst and Humor, F/M, M/M, Orginal Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-07
Updated: 2011-05-06
Packaged: 2017-10-19 02:30:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 42,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxymissrose/pseuds/roxymissrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex's graduation present for Clark is a trip to Europe--at least, Clark thinks so.</p><p>originally posted 07-06-2005</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

1 So…We’re Gonna Do What?

“So, I think I’d like to travel a bit after graduation. I mean, I’m going to MU, I’ll be working my butt off and I won’t have time to travel, or the money, you know…” Clark leaned back on the sofa and flicked through the pile of brochures on the table in front of him. “I grabbed a bunch of these from Sarah James down at the Triple A—she’s probably sick of me clearing out the brochures but they’re free,” Clark said, as if it was Halloween and he’d just gotten his bag filled with candies.

Lex nodded. He could see that the colorful pamphlets advertised different states and attractions, except one—it had a different look—

“Free brochures. From the Triple-A, hmm? —Remarkably generous of the Triple-A. And how old is Sarah?” Lex asked and smirked at him, kidding of course. He really had no interest in how old the woman—or possibly girl was. No interest at all.

Clark’s cheeks turned a little pinker, but he grinned, slightly embarrassed but pleased to be on the receiving end of a little teasing. Lex had certain set ways of showing affection, teasing being his most common way. It always made Clark laugh, and always made Lex smile, and Lex smiling was a good thing as far as Clark was concerned.

Lex watched with fond amusement as Clark gathered up his little cache of travel brochures. He knew it was hard for Clark to turn down something free—getting something for nothing must seem positively decadent. Oh.  


To distract himself from the unwelcome direction that the word decadent led his thoughts, Lex picked up a pen from his desk and twirled it about on the slick surface. “Travel is a great idea Clark. You know, I always wanted to do that—travel after high school. I wanted to do Europe, just have a ball across the continent.” He smiled directly at Clark. “It would have been loads of fun—but business and Dad came first.” He smiled again, just the tiniest bit less wide but Clark noticed immediately, felt Lex’s mood change and sat forward, attuned to the shift because he was Lex’s best friend—ready to help if need be.

Lex stretched into the mesh-backed chair and folded his hands over his stomach, slate blue eyes on the pen propped between his index fingers. “I wish I had traveled with my friends, they brought some great stories back…I went on the Grand Tour later, of course,” and Clark looked politely amused and a little confused when Lex laughed, “but I always regretted not getting to share the experience with my friends, I really wish…”

”Lex—what a great idea!” Clark broke in. “I’ll ask mom and dad if I can go! It’ll be a terrific learning experience right? We’ll have such a good time! Wow Lex, when you said to come over and get my gift I never imagined that it’d be this cool! I mean, I thought it’d be a watch or something…”  
Lex quickly slipped an elegantly wrapped rectangular box under the pile of papers spread across his desk and swallowed.

“It’s so cool you can clear your schedule like that. It must be great being your own boss!”

Clark swung around Lex’s desk and stood behind his chair. He squeezed Lex’s shoulder, and suddenly leaned down and slung an arm across his chest and hugged him. “You’re the best friend ever, Lex, thanks so much! I’ll call you in a bit, okay? No way they’re going to say no, absolutely no way!” By ‘They’, Clark apparently meant ‘Mom and Dad’. Ah-ha.

Lex planted his elbows on his desk and forced himself to breathe normally, and managed a perfectly bland smile and a dry chuckle. CEO, shit—he should have been an actor.

Clark breezed out of the study and took all the giddy enthusiasm with him and for a moment if felt as if vacuum had replaced air and the lights had dimmed. Lex watched him leave, perfectly motionless because his brain not actually functioning.

He sat behind his big glass “I’m the Boss, I’m rich as hell, fear me” desk, face expressionless and the pen frozen between his fingers. After a moment, the pen dropped to the desk surface with a musical tinkle, rolled quietly to the edge and dropped off into the thick ivory carpet.

“What the hell just happened here?” he said aloud, as if hearing himself speak would make the event…less surreal. Did one of his fantasies suddenly erupt into his daytime brain and did it show? He glanced down into his lap quickly, looked back at the door, back at the couch. Under the coffee table lay a shiny new travel brochure…okay. That part of his day had been real….

He gathered the trailing reigns of his mind and told himself sternly to focus on something else besides Clark’s happy smile, shining white teeth, endearingly snaggled, framed by smooth full pink lips, cushiony and soft and moist…fuck!

He shuddered lightly, trying to shake off the feel of a remarkably warm arm sliding across his…Fuck! Focus!  
He needed to call Clark and explain that whatever he thought was happening…was not.

 

He called the Kent farm, and his luck was holding, he got Jonathan Kent on the line.

Wonderful. He was no doubt about to get a lecture on filling his poor, simple but honest son’s gorgeous head with high-falutin’ ideas about foreign lands…and why Jonathan spoke like a Beverly Hillbilly in his mind he had no idea…well, yes…it did make him laugh.

Lex snapped back into the moment when he heard Jonathan growl, “Yes? Who’s calling?” Lex could hear excited chatter in the background and marveled that Clark had lost no time.

“Hello Mr. Kent, how are you this afternoon?” Polite small talk, an effective weapon to gauge how deeply one could expect to sink into the metaphorical pooh.

Jonathan responded gruffly but politely as well. Ah. Ankle deep then—good.

“Lex, how are you? Clark’s been telling us about this wild idea you two have cooked up…”

Lex breathed a silent sigh of relief. At least he could count on Jonathan to dowse Clark’s flames of fantasy…flaming fantasy—Lex noted that he was maybe overdue for a vacation when Jonathan continued.

“Now, Clark has limits, and I expect that you’ll enforce them—after all, you’re the adult here, right—and thanks, Martha and I are grateful for this opportunity you’re giving Clark.”

What? What? That wasn’t—he wasn’t supposed to agree! Damn it-- that man—why couldn’t Lex ever count on him?

“Now, don’t let Clark bulldoze you, he can be quite a handful.”

“But—Mr. Kent—I—I—that’s not…”

“Don’t say that it won’t be a problem, when you’re spending day after day with him, you’ll find out—he’ll try to twist you around his little finger, but you just be firm—let him know you’re the boss and you’re calling the shots.”  
Lex knew that he was going to hell- he was talking to Jonathan, whose words were driving images straight to his dick and it couldn’t get any pervier than that.

“Anyway, you know he’s a good kid but his enthusiasm can get the best of him from time to time.” An outraged squawk in the background let Lex know Clark was listening in on his conversation with Jonathan.

“Mr. Kent, you don’t have to worry--” and the excited buzz in the background resolved itself into Martha’s voice.  
“Oh, Lex, this is so exciting! I love the idea! I did the same after high school—well, we backpacked across Europe, so it wasn’t quite the same,” she laughed, “lots of hostels and camping out, hardly any money, love beads and sandals—that was the thing when I was a girl.” She went on to describe her adventures, and Lex felt bulldozed under the enthusiasm. He’d counted on Martha to be a voice of sanity and for Jonathan to put a stop to this craziness, and here was Martha, reeling down memory lane, more the voice of a seventies flower child and way less that of sanity, and Jonathan—what the hell—did Martha bring back hashish from her tour they were only now smoking? And Clark—God help him, how was he going to survive Clark... all alone for the summer…alone…what the fuck was wrong with him? This was a golden opportunity for him—Clark, alone. He shivered a little. Come back to sanity, Lex.

The sound of Martha’s laughter broke through the fog of lust that had descended on his mind, and he took a moment to enjoy the sound. It always made him smile. It was addictive, that laugh, just as addictive as her son’s smiles had become to him. He sighed. Okay. The wheels were in motion, might as well just—go along with the ride.

“Mrs. Kent, I promise this will be a very educational trip for Clark. A growth experience…”

“Oh yes, I’m sure it will be, after all that’s why I went.’”

Lex was surprised—he didn’t think one could actually wink verbally but apparently it was possible.

He leaned down and picked up the fallen pen and began swinging it back and forth in his fingers. “Mrs. Kent, I really do think this trip will be a learning experience for--”

“Of course, of course, sweetie-listen, Clark is jumping up and down here--” I am not! Lex heard clearly in the background, “So let me hand over the phone. See you soon!”

“Thank you,” Lex responded and Clark said “For what? So, how is this going to work?”

“Work…er. Between your parents and myself, we’ll figure it all out.”

“Cool! Thanks again Lex! Bye!”

Lex sat staring at the plastic demon of his destruction buzzing merrily away in his hand. He smiled softly at it, and pitched it hard into the study wall.

How in the hell did he think he was going to survive this summer?

2 And Then…

Clark whistled as he made his way through the crowd of kids in the hallway, forgetting to walk in his usual drawn in and slightly hunched ‘please don’t notice me’ way and consequently he was taking up quite a bit of hall. He was happy, absorbed and not really noticing that the kids parted before him like wheat in a high wind. He was so pre-occupied with his up-coming trip that he felt like he was floating—he checked quickly—he couldn’t wait to share the news with his friends. And okay, maybe indulge in a minor amount of Nyah-nyahs, but not enough to be obnoxious. Too obnoxious.

Chloe was standing in front of her locker, talking about something with Pete, excitement making her cheeks pink. Cute, Clark thought. Something good must going on for Chloe—maybe the Daily Planet internship came through….

As soon as Chloe caught sight of him, she grinned from ear to ear, and lunged for his arm.

“Clark! Guess who won’t be rotting away in Smallville all summer long? Guess who got the coolest job ever?”

“Ummm…Pete? Lana? That kid who sits in the back of math class and smells like moth balls and paints his nails navy blue?”

Chloe backhanded him in the chest and he obligingly went ‘woof’ and Pete rolled his eyes.  
“For God’s sake Clark, don’t get her wound up! I only have one lifetime here…”

Clark grinned and laughed a little; he caught Chloe’s hand as it went into the windup for another attack. “Congratulations—you got the internship, right?” Chloe just grinned back, her eyes sparkled and she positively vibrated, she was so excited that Clark felt like he was holding hands with a live wire, a cute little live wire. She just broadcast energy all around her; so much that even Pete was sucked into her enthusiasm.

He grinned wide as he watched Chloe bounce and winked at Clark. “I told her it was great news, Clark, but it’s not really fair to show off like that, I mean, think of me--doing slave work all summer long at the courthouse.” He mock pouted, and Chloe laughed.

“No, Pete, don’t think of it that way, think of it as an opportunity to learn about how government really works, keep your eyes and ears open, and I’ll bet you uncover a lot of dirt-”

“Speaking of opportunity,” Clark began. And was cut off by Pete.

“Only a future investigative reporter would think of this as an opportunity, Ms. Muckraker…I see it as a chance to schlep file boxes around and empty wastebaskets, and yeah, let’s not forget fetching coffee…”

“Speaking of opportunities,’ Clark tried again, “Guess what?”

“Ha!” Chloe laughed. “Schlep? Have you been reading SJ Perelman,” she grinned.

“SJ who?” Pete asked, his forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. “Who the heck is--”

“Hello!” Clark exploded. “I’m here in the hallway with you—trying to speak!”

The two looked at Clark in surprise, and Chloe gestured. “Oh please! Do go on Clark, gosh, excuse us for monopolizing your valuable time, and all.” Pete chimed in. “Oh yeah, please do tell us what’s so important--we’re all a-twitter. Shut up,” he said at Chloe’s snort of disbelief.

“A-twitter?”

Pete scowled, “You try reading bedtime stories to your pain in the ass little cousin and see if it doesn’t rub off some.” He groaned. “All summer, slaving and babysitting for the Demon Spawn—all I can say is, I better be rich by the end of it…”

“Uncharted territory for me, thank God. Not having to share a single thing with…” She fell silent at the look on Clark’s face and Pete continued, oblivious to Clark’s impending explosion. “Go ahead, out with it, boy—what’s the news--brand spanking new paper hats at the market this year—or do you get a shiny new nametag--”

“I’m going to Europe for the summer with Lex!” he shouted.

Everyone in the hall stopped and turned to look at them. A smattering of applause broke the silence and a voice called out “There ya go, Kent, out and proud.”

Laughter filled the air and the crowd moved on and Clark stood in the center of it like a bright red extremely mortified iceberg.

Chloe’s eyes lit up but she kept quiet. Pete yelped. “What the fuck Clark! Whaddya mean? Your parents are letting you leave the country with *him*!”

“Of course—what—you act like he’s going to sell me into slavery the minute we leave—it’s going to be great—we’ll get a chance to do the continent!”

Chloe burst into laughter. “Oh my god Clark, do you have any idea how that sounds?” she snickered and tried to control herself. “Do the continent…heee…Who are you, Bette Davis?”

Clark asked her desperately, “Shut up please.” He was still getting odd looks and giggles still floated his way.

Pete forged on. “Why Lex? Why the summer? He’s so full of himself—creepy bastard,” ignoring the hurt look on Clark’s face.

Chloe shot Pete a warning look, but picked up the thread. “I can’t see it either Clark—I mean I can’t see Lex offering to take you overseas out of the blue like that,” she said skeptically.

Clark turned to his locker next to Chloe’s, and yanked the door open almost too forcefully. “Yeah well, he could, and he did,” he snapped and grabbed a handful of books, fumbled a notebook that spilled its paper guts out over the floor. He dropped to his knees and scooted the papers together but not before Chloe’s sharp eyes locked on a travel brochure and she snatched it up.

There on the cover was an ancient picture of Julie Andrews, clothed in a Hollywood version of Austrian dress, a frame doodled around her and little arrows drawn pointing all around the title, “The Sound Of Music Tour”

“What the hell?” Chloe burst into laughter; Pete leaned against her as the both of them laughed until tears spilled.

Lana came up the hall behind them. “Hey you guys, you better get to class before the final bell—what’s so funny?”

Chloe thrust the pamphlet at her. “Oh, God—look at this, will you?”

Lana took the glossy paper and stared at it as if it contained the secrets of the universe, but due to the perfidious machinations of others, she was the only one not to understand. Her eyes were dark with confusion as she handed the brochure back to Chloe.

“What does it mean?” She looked at Clark, who blushed and shrugged. “I—I like the movie?” He beamed at her, and she returned his smile, tucked her hair back from her face as her cheeks turned pink in response to Clark’s intense smile.

Clark told her what was going on, and smiled non-stop at her, his nerves were tingling with the feeling he always got around Lana. He spoke right into her beautiful eyes. He loved looking at her and every time he talked to her he wanted to touch her, remembered how silky and nice her hair felt, how smooth and warm her skin was but he just kept smiling. Hoped he wasn’t crossing into frightening goofy grin territory as he told her, “Lex is taking me to Europe this summer. He offered,” he said, cutting his eye toward Chloe, who gave him a look of supreme innocence. “As a graduation gift,” he continued. And for the first time since the excitement of it all filled his head, the tiniest thinnest sliver of doubt wormed its way into Clark’s brain. He did offer, didn’t he? He’d told him he had a special gift for him, if his dad allowed it…Well of course! What could be more special than a trip overseas, right?

Satisfied, Clark smiled at Lana with renewed wattage and blushed to the hairline when Lana licked her lips with a tiny pink pointed tongue just like a kitten, and his mind went terrible places involving a warm wet tongue and sensitive spots and…Clark snatched his brochure out of Chloe’s hand and made a mental note to stop by the Triple-A and get a nice new one….

He took off down the hallway with a sketchy wave and as Lana stared after him, Pete scowled at Clark’s disappearing back.

“Why Lex? I don’t get it. Clark’s not a guy who’s impressed by material things…I don’t *get* it.”

Lana turned back to them. “You know—Lex has been rather attentive to me lately,” she tilted her head to look at Pete and blushed lightly. “Maybe this is his way of keeping Clark away…”

Pet looked positively ferocious as he nodded. “Sure, if he keeps Clark away, he thinks you’ll forget about him and he can move on you when they come back— slimy bastard.”

Chloe rolled her eyes and managed to stop herself from muttering God help me. “I’m pretty sure the agenda is just ‘Let’s take a trip’. But enjoy your fantasies.” I know I’ll enjoy mine. She slammed her locker and glanced at Lana. How did you manage to get to the point where everything, all the time, was all about you? You had to kind of admire that sort of relentless self-involvement—it was almost an art form.

She said good-bye to Pete and Lana and strolled up the hall towards her class. Speaking of art-- she smirked to herself, she was willing to bet Clark didn’t mean Lana when he doodled L.L. around his fancy little border on that brochure, or at least his subconscious didn’t—she was going to grill Clark like Elliot Ness on Frank Nitti when he came back from that trip….  


3 And Then Again…

To his surprise, Lex very much enjoyed the evening at the Kent’s.

Mrs. Kent—Martha, cooked dinner for them and he ate like he seldom did, not polite, not dissecting the food on his plate and pushing it around until it looked like he’d eaten—he ate with gusto and enjoyment and Mr. Kent—Jonathan, actually looked pleased.

“I’ll bet you don’t get food like this very often hunh? Better than some pretty picture arranged on a plate and pretending it’s a meal, eh? This is the kind of cooking that will fill a man out, I’m telling you.” He smiled at Clark, as if to say and ‘right there is the proof of that.’  
Lex nodded at Jonathan and smiled at Martha. “It’s truly delicious, Martha. The best meal I’ve eaten in ages.”

She beamed and stood, “Why, thank you Lex, I’m so glad to hear that. Now, how about some dessert?”

Clark looked happy enough to soar and gave Lex a look that made his toes curl in his hand sewn loafers. Clark liked it when his mom was happy, Lex thought longingly of outfitting her kitchen in top of the line chef’s grade everything, just to see how far Clark would go in showing his appreciation…get a grip, Lex, for God’s sake—too bad he’d have to turn down dessert, there was absolutely no way he could shove one more bite in, and as she brought a humble apple pie to the table he let a little breath out and opened his mouth to beg off and try to turn the conversation to the Trip…when the smell hit him.

Smell.  
No, not smell, not odor not scent—it was as though the pie leaped from the table and made love to his nose…the delicious aroma of cinnamon and butter, vanilla and sugar and tart apples melded made his mouth water and he found himself accepting a slice as large as an obscure European nation.  
With creamy smooth ice cream slowly melting, sensuously sliding down and enveloping the evenly light brown and flaky crust in its liquefying embrace.

He was in love. Completely. Totally. He wanted to marry Clark just to be close to his mother and…The Pie. He took a bite. Oh. My. God. He thought his eyes may have rolled up a bit, and it was possible that he moaned. He snuck a look at the awestruck Kent’s. Yes. He’d definitely moaned.

Clark watched him eat the pie with an intensity that Lex tried very, very hard to ignore. His cheeks were red and his mouth opened just enough to almost take Lex’s attention away from the pastry he was devouring.  
Almost.

“Wow, Lex—you really like pie, hunh?” Clark said watching Lex’s tongue sweep across his syrup-glazed lips. It was weird how fascinating it was, Lex eating pie…. he looked over at his mom and she was just about glowing, she loved watching Lex eat too—and his dad looked pleased as can be. He liked watching folks enjoy Mom’s cooking—it was further evidence that she was the best.

Lex nodded and blushed. “I’m making a spectacle of myself--”

“No, goodness no, dear—I think I should take on the job of filling out those bones of yours, hm?” She sparkled and Lex sparkled right back, his blue eyes dancing and Clark felt a little put out. Lex usually saved those kinds of looks for him, the smiles that filled his eyes and made them crinkle, so warm it was easy to see it was personal and not business…well, it was nice, he supposed, that Lex felt some connection with his mom. That was good; he did need some family love, didn’t he? Clark decided he shouldn’t be so stingy—he could stand to share Lex—Mom!—Mom, he meant-- with Lex.

4 Tell Me Again How this Happened…  
The evening ended with plans finalized—Clark was flying overseas with Lex. They would absolutely not be taking the Sound Of Music excursion. They were not going to any Sound Of Music sites, they were not humming the songs, they were not bringing the film. Clark nodded at each pronouncement and his dad watched Lex with a slight grimace and from time to time shook his head minutely—often enough that Lex had to strain not to leap up and shout ‘I swear to God—we are not doing Julie Andrews.’ Martha smiled at Clark.

“Take pictures of that Castle they lived in Clark.”

“Umm, Lex says we aren’t going near any of that stuff.” He smiled at Lex, the patient, suffering smile of a saint being drawn and quartered. He smiled the smile of forgiveness for those who were unaware of the pain the y caused the innocent.

Martha nodded. “Of course.”

Jonathan grimaced again and looked at Lex with sympathy. Lex looked stonily at the travel brochure with the image of Maria Von Trapp yodeling her heart out in a mountain meadow, picked it up and tossed it in a nearby wastebasket. His expression said. ‘There that’s done.’ Clark just smiled.

 

Graduation passed like a dream for Clark—it came so fast, went so fast, that after waiting for it for twelve years, it was almost kind of anti-climactic. He felt no different—no older, no wiser, no smarter, than he had the day before. Chloe and Lana and Pete were just the same as they were yesterday. Well, besides the fact that they would be off doing their separate things this summer and he’d be sending them postcards from overseas. He rolled the word around on his tongue. Overseas…so exotic, so full of promise. He was leaving here a boy scout, but damn it—he planned to enlist Lex’s help in making him a man. He’d heard stories about Europe—there was sex to be had, plenty of it, and he was damn sure going to have some of it. And go to some museums too, of course.

 

The few days after graduation passed in a blur and before Clark knew it The Day had arrived. Mom and Dad had alternated between treating him like a grown up and treating him like a little kid about to leave the nest for the first time. It was kind of exhausting and a little bit irritating and there had been times when he couldn’t wait to leave, just to get some peace. But now, the Day was staring him in the face—almost three months without his family…wow.

His bags were packed and waiting on the porch. His dad was driving him over to Lex’s and Pete wanted to come by and talk to him before he left. Cool. He was going to miss Pete for sure. He was going to miss everyone, but Pete especially. This was going to be his first summer without Pete to hang around with, and it felt weird.

Clark walked down the steps and into the slightly humid night. Frowned a little as the thought suddenly occurred to him that Pete might be coming over to rag at him about Lex. Oh well. He’d just let him get it out of his system.

He sighed. Why the heck couldn’t they just get along? Why couldn’t Pete see that he wouldn’t hang out with Lex if he were the enormous dick Pete seemed to think he was? It was kind of insulting, is what it was-- as if Pete thought he was too stupid to tell if a person was bad or not. And Lex—he added fuel to the fire constantly by treating Pete like he was Clark’s simpleton little buddy. He had a sudden flash of Pete in a red long sleeved T-shirt and a little white boater's cap and snickered. Little Buddy.

A horn beeped, two sharp and short bursts, Pete’s signal. Car headlights swept the road and Clark came over to the drive and waited for Pete to come out.

Pete swung out of his car and waved at Clark. “Hey, Clark! Thanks for waiting for me.”

“No problem Pete, come on up to the loft?”

Pete nodded and they walked into the barn and trotted up the stairs to the Fortress. Pete looked around and shook his head. “Man, I can’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve been up here.” He looked around the space, there was a paperback butterflied open on the trunk that stood in for a coffee table, and the Mexican style blanket that always rode on the back of the couch was rumpled on the sagging couch cushions. There was a half empty bottle of juice on the trunk, and a pile of CD’s fanned out on the rest of the surface.

“You still come out here a lot, Clark?” Pete shoved the blanket in a corner of a couch and Clark came to sit near him.

“Yeah, I do. I read—I’ve been writing lately.”

Pete grinned. “Oh yeah? Love poetry for a certain someone?”

Clark laughed and shook his head no. “No—just stuff—what I’m thinking, stuff like that. I’m gonna keep a journal on my trip,” he grinned and Pete’s face fell.

“Yeah, listen I wanted to talk to you about that. Clark. You’re spending the whole summer in close company with guy I really don’t trust—I mean, what happens if you make a mistake?”

Clark’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Pete. “What do you mean, mistake?”

“Clark, you told me yourself that you sometimes have…strange reactions-- you know, like the floating thing? I mean, not that you’d be—but you never know—it could happen…” He looked embarrassed and avoided Clark’s eyes. “And what if you cut yourself or burn yourself, or if you should be bleeding and you don’t or if some new power comes out, and you’re stuck with a guy I’m willing to bet would dissect you to try and see what made you tick in a heartbeat…”

“Look Pete, you don’t like Lex and I try to be okay with that, but please don’t say he’d hurt me, I know he never would. And if he knew about me, well, I’m sure he’d protect me—just like you have.”

“Clark, you have no idea…you think everyone thinks like you, like—like—a fucking boy scout! You have no idea how he’d act if he knew, hell, I don’t know how to act sometime…sometimes I wish I didn’t know. I’m always afraid I’m going to slip--”

Clark looked stricken and grabbed Pete’s hand. “Oh no Pete. You never would. I know you never would. Don’t you see, neither would Lex? ‘Cause like it or not, you do have something in common—you both really care about me.” Clark looked so fiercely certain that Pete swallowed down anything else he had to say about Lex. He reached over and hugged Clark.

“Okay—listen, you have a good trip. Just. Please think about what I’ve said.” He held up his hands, “Okay! Okay! Not another word.” He stood and he turned to Clark again before he went down the stairs. “Go get ‘em Clark. Tell me all about the girls over there—I know you’ll be knocking them dead! I want lots of stories, and pictures would be an added bonus.” he grinned and winked and bounded down the stairs.

Clark lay back against the couch and felt exhausted. He’d had a shorter, less angst-driven conversation on this same subject with Dad…it really tired him out.

He wished other people could see Lex the way he did. Why couldn’t *they* see the little kid trying to come out; see how hard he tried to please other people, how he was always doing something nice for someone and never asking for repayment? Idiots. They all had their minds made up about him before he’d had a chance. Talk about the sins of the father…they’d definitely been visited on poor Lex.

He stood and gathered his CD’s; picked out one of the language CD’s and popped it into his player. He reached behind a couch pillow and pulled out his DVD of the forbidden movie. Once he played the DVD for Lex a few times, he’d love it too.

He snugged the player’s ear buds in and walked back to the house. He was determined that he speak at least a little bit of the languages of the countries they planned to visit. He bet any money that Lex was probably fluent in all of them, because he was such a showoff, Clark grinned.  


5 It’s Like A Dream Come True. I did Say Dream, Right?

“Hey! Hi Mom…yeah, I checked everything before I packed. Umm-hum. Yes, passport’s in an outside pocket… Yes, he promised we were going to stay in Salzburg! It’s so exciting…no. No. No! I do not want to sing “the hills are alive” and anyway Lex will strangle me if I even so much as hum it. And thanks for pasting it in my brain, okay? I love you too. Give Dad my love. Tell him I’m sorry I missed him. Yes I’ll write tons of postcards! All the pretty ones! Bye Mom. I love you, bye!”

Clark hung up and handed Lex his phone back. Lex was leaning back against the car seat, hands folded in his lap, legs stretched out before him and crossed casually at the ankles, the very picture of elegant perfection and so damn perfectly *relaxed* that Clark felt like he was wearing an outfit he found in the dumpster and maybe planned on stuffing with newspapers…he was nervous about the flight and excited about leaving Smallville. And now, he had Lex all to himself. Clark stopped a moment and re-played that thought. Turned it upside down and shook it. That was…kind of a weird thought.

But what he meant of course, was Lex was on vacation too, and they wouldn’t have to drop everything because Lex had to take a call or rush out to the plant or zip back to Metropolis. Clark frowned to himself. He always thought those Metropolis calls were booty calls. Not that that wasn’t cool or anything-Lex was a guy after all, and you had to respect the fact that these girls were after him like that—it was just that look he got whenever he told Clark he needed to go into the city as if he was headed down town instead of three hours away--the way his eyes slid past Clark as he talked and focused away from him—Clark knew that as far as Lex was concerned in those moments he was already alone…

Lex watched him with a slightly puzzled smile on his face, an eyebrow cocked. The amber lights inside the limo made Lex look blazingly healthy and tan, it also made his eyes look bluer than normal. Clark pictured Lex on a bright sunny beach tanning to a golden hue.

Both of them soaking up the sun, checking out girls, Lex smirking at them and signaling Clark with his eyes…yeah, it was more likely that he’d fry instead of tanning, Clark thought. He had a redhead’s fine pale skin-- Lex freckled just from whatever sunlight could reach him through the tinted windows of his cars. Yep, that scenario probably wasn’t likely to happen, at least not without Lex wearing a ton of sun block and shades and one of those shirts from the Philippines and for a horrible moment, Clark pictured himself on a beach sitting under an umbrella checking out girls with Jerry Seinfeld’s dad…or wasn’t it Ben Stiller’s dad…I’m internally babbling, he thought. Why am I babbling, and so very boring….

Lex shifted and the leather seat creaked quietly. He leaned forward and turned on the music system. “Worried Clark? Thinking big thoughts?” Some soft jazz stuff trickled out of the speakers and Lex pushed a button and with a muted hum, a panel slid away and a little bar revealed itself. Clark sat forward. Cool, drinks! His enthusiasm dimmed dramatically when Lex smirked evilly and handed him a cold Coke.

“Your dad made the rules, Clark—sorry, but I’m going to follow them.”

Clark pushed his shoulders back against the seat and folded one leg over the other and crossed his arms over his chest and let his body language scream, I’m really pissed off.

Lex sipped something gold and bubbly and pretty obviously not Coke in a skinny wine glass. “I think we better get something straight, Clark. This isn’t an excuse for you to lose your mind, okay? No spring break-type shenanigans, there’ll be no waking up naked and drunk and missing a kidney in a tub full of ice, okay?”

Clark gaped at Lex, not sure whether to howl over the kidney image, or the fact that Lex, a guy in his twenties, would use a word like shenanigans. Who the hell did he hang out with in his down time? The guys at the Smallville Retirement? He shook his head. “I promise, I won’t be a problem and I’ll do everything you say.” Lex winced. “What? Did I do something?”

Lex shook his head.

“No, no, you’re fine—it’s fine. Hey, we’re at the airport.”

“Cool!” He looked out the limo window. “Umm...this is a very tiny airport. Where’s all the building and runways and people and stuff?” he asked and felt slightly more nervous than before. He grabbed his carryon bag from under the seat and made sure he had his mints and a book to distract himself while he was in the air—God—he was about to *fly*! He shivered and hoped for the best.

Lex laughed softly. “This is a private airport, we’re flying LuthorCorp. We have our own airline, Clark. It’s a much more civilized flight, trust me.”

Clark paled. Damn, he was going to be stuck a tiny little plane for hours on end—he was going to go crazy….

“Clark,” Lex said gently. I’d never let anything happen to you. Don’t worry, please.” He pat Clark’s arm and Clark warmed. He felt safe--stupid, but safe— after all, there wasn’t a damn thing Lex could do if the plane went down, but just saying that made Clark feel as safe as if he were home in Mom’s kitchen. Such a good Lex.

6 I See Paris, I See France…

Clark stood on the wonderful, beautiful, gorgeous, perfectly solid and stationary, stinking of hot tar runway and celebrated the fact that he was still alive, gloriously alive. Okay, true, the thing had had a gym and bedrooms and a lounge—but the fact remained he’d been suspended above the ground with nothing between him and the air but carpet and a thin metal shell. He looked at Lex, expecting him to have that sardonic ‘Oh, Clark, you’re ever so amusingly rustic’ look on his face but--Clark’s eyes narrowed as he took in beads of sweat on Lex’s lip, and along his neck. His pupils were small, and he seemed to be breathing a little fast. Oh. He was scared too. And he’d never said a word to him. He probably hadn’t wanted to worry him, Clark thought. Yeah, Lex was like that….

Lex stood aside and one of the crew members walked out behind him with a liquid little shimmy as she passed him—the smile she gave him said things that Clark wasn’t sure he was old enough to see, or wanted to see…okay maybe he was breathing heavy not so much from fear as from *exhaustion*.

The woman passed Clark and smiled at him, and Clark lifted the edge of his lip. Close enough to pass for a smile. She giggled softly and kept going. Another crewmember passed Clark and patted him on the shoulder.

“What’s the matter honey? She take your spot?”

“What?” Clark suspected the expression on his face was less than intelligent, knew it when the guy laughed.  
“I’m—yeah.” He turned his back on the guy. He wasn’t about to explain himself to a stranger and he didn’t care what the guy thought. He really didn’t.

Lex joined him on the tarmac and Clark noticed fine lines at the corner of his eyes and bracketing his mouth and felt bad. Lex looked tired and a little wrung out. He really did look as if he’d enjoyed the flight as little as Clark had, and still he tried to make Clark feel better, acting as if it had been such an adventure, distracting Clark when he’d felt a little nervous. Guess Lex had a right to relieve stress in whatever way he wanted, Clark thought, ignoring the tiny flicker of whatever it was in his stomach. After all, it wasn’t taking anything from *him*.  
Lex patted him on the back, the little pat-rub-pat thing he did, and asked, “Ready?” and once again Clark felt lucky to have such an amazing and thoughtful friend.

A limousine pulled up alongside of them and a driver in a crisp uniform with a small LuthorCorp logo on the breast pocket of the blazer moved their luggage into it. An assistant from the company, a business-like brunette with, Clark noted, amazing legs, climbed out.

“Welcome to France, Mr. Alexander.” She said warmly. “I have what you asked for.” She held a folder and a thick lavender and gray packet of material. LexCorp colors. Clark felt a jab of disappointment—this was going to be a working holiday after all—but Lex caught his eye and shook his head.

“Marlene’s handling the arrangements for our travels, that’s all. I promise you,” he said and held up the packet the assistant had handed him, “this contains nothing but fun, fun, fun.”

The assistant, Marlene, smiled at Clark and nodded, and ushered them to the car. She moved to sit up front with the driver, who held the rear door open for them. Clark wondered when the man was going to click his heels and was vaguely disappointed when he didn’t. Before he could get in, Lex stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Look.”

He pointed off on the horizon and for a moment Clark felt—staggered. A line of mountains marched away in the distance and it looked magical and unreal, photos didn’t prepare him for the reality, the beauty. It was an amazing sight for a kid from Kansas.  
“Wow,” he said quietly.  
Lex smiled whole-heartedly. “Yes. Wow.”  


7 This Is Just the Beginning…

Their hotel was beautiful; though Clark was surprised Lex didn’t just buy a house or something for the summer, or rent the whole floor like movie stars were always doing.

“Well, I don’t think we need a whole floor to ourselves, do we?” Lex answered him when asked. “And the people here know how to be discrete and unobtrusive. Contrary to what everyone seems to think, I do not toss money around like day old salad.”

Clark nodded, eyes wide in sincerity, and coughed into his fist, “Cars! Cars”

“Shut up. Besides, I’m saving the money for the villa.” He winked at Clark, and he wasn’t sure if Lex was kidding or not.

Lex said. “Come on, let’s get settled in.”

Clark stopped and looked around the room. The room they were standing in was a sitting room; there was a couch and two large club chairs flanking a high-legged coffee table, a desk in one corner and an entertainment system disguised as an antique wardrobe against one wall. Through the open-doored arch way, Clark could see a king-sized bed in a large bedroom—on the opposite wall was a door that he opened and revealed an incredible bathroom with ‘oh my gosh!’ gold fixtures and beautiful tile work and décor and the door next to that opened on a bedroom containing another desk and armoire and a queen size bed—wow! This was great.

He walked back to the first bedroom and watched Lex open his suitcase. Lex looked up when he noticed Clark was standing there. “Oh! Sorry Clark—let’s go bring your suitcase to your room.” Clark looked over his shoulder at the other bedroom and Lex smiled. “You get your own suite, Clark—one just like this all to yourself.”

Clark was disappointed. “But—but who am I going to talk to?”

Lex rolled his eyes. “Clark, I’m right here and there’s a phone and all you’ll have to do is walk down the hall…”

“No. Do I have to? Why can’t we share?”

Lex seemed startled. He looked as if he’d completely lost track of his line of thought—he opened his mouth-shut it. Opened it—shut it. “Clark, he finally said. “You—don’t you want to have your privacy?”

“What for?” Clark asked. He was puzzled and kind of…vaguely disturbed. Did Lex not want to spend time with him? Maybe he wanted too much—

Instead of arguing, Lex just smiled a little and shook his head, as if Clark were being a stubborn two-year old. Clark would have been offended but he was too pleased that he was about to get his way.

“Alright,” Lex said. He turned back to his suitcase. “Okay—you can take the other bedroom. But no blasting music at odd hours and no wild parties.”

Clark grinned. “Thanks Lex!”

He grabbed his bags and tossed them on the bed next to Lex’s. He grabbed a handful of smooth, satiny and probably really expensive wooden hangers from Lex, who raised an eyebrow but remained silent, just watching as Clark began pulling out shorts and t-shirts and a lone flannel shirt, “In case it gets cold…” Clark grinned at Lex; he knew that look, that pained long-suffering look. He had the feeling if Lex got his way, there’d be some changes in his wardrobe.

Clark bundled up his clothes and took them over to his bedroom. He grinned the whole way.

 

Lex thought about the contents of Clark’s suitcase, and sighed. A ton of band tees and more cargo shorts then any one person needed--and the well-washed plaid shirt that had seemed to wave coquettishly at him--if plaid flannel could be said to be coquettish….

He saw it hanging open on Clark’s body, barely defending nipples hardened by the cold, begging to be warmed…right. Barely half an hour alone with him and his libido was doing push-ups. God help him.

He smoothed the tux that he had hanging on the closet door. Prepare and plan for any eventuality, that was the Luthor family motto. Yes, just like twisted demonic boy scouts, always prepared. He smiled and pulled a few other Clark sized items from his bag and hung them next to his in the closet, resisted the momentary urge to smash the clothing together.

Clark was banging on his door not long after.

“Come on you can’t possibly still be putting clothes away! I’m hungry! Let’s go eat!”

Lex walked out of the room. “Clark, aren’t you tired?” He walked over to the balcony door and opened them, letting a breeze fill the room. Clark stared at him. Lex looked back at the boy. “You okay Clark?”

“Oh, yeah—umm…your shirt is see-through in the light. It just looked kind of…” He stopped and shrugged. “Whatever.” He bounced over to the balcony and threw his head back and forth, looking one way and then the other. “Wow! Cool! Look at the buildings—wow! Look, the Eiffel Tower! We can see it from our room!” He turned a smile, so bright, happy and so huge that for a moment Lex was convinced he'd gone blind.

Clark looked down at the street, “Wow! Look at that girl’s skirt!” There was café on the floor level of the hotel and several tables on the sidewalk. Clark looked down on a young woman seated at one of the tables, leg crossed and sipping a coffee. He admired the length of leg exposed by the skirt riding up and grinned when Lex applied an elbow to his ribs.

“I had no idea you were a voyeur,” Lex said. He tried to make it light and jokey, but he felt a sting of...frustration—something. Fuck. Was he going to have to watch Clark slobber over random girls all summer long?

Clark laughed, “I don’t think looking at someone's knees counts as voyeurism, do you?”

"It's all in how you look--" Lex crammed the moment of anger down and smiled as he moved off the balcony. “Come on then, let’s feed you.”  


8 I’m Watching You

A week had passed; a week in which Lex had a surprisingly good time introducing Clark to a completely different style of life. Clark rewarded him by being enthusiastic and willing to try nearly everything. He learned that he really liked French food, and Lex felt rather proud of him—he was certain most guys Clark’s age and background would have required a pry bar and heaping handfuls of valium to try something like escargot. And the day he’d challenged Clark to let him order for him, un-translated, unexplained…Lex grinned fondly at the memory.

“Clark, let me order for you—try this…”  
Clark looked at him a little dubiously and Lex countered with, “Didn’t you like the escargot? It was good, right?”

Clark nodded slowly, “yes…” and the look on his face said, ‘It couldn’t get weirder than snails.’ “Okay Lex, though I’d just as soon it not be something Mom tries to kill in the garden, okay? Not saying they weren’t interesting--” he leaned forward and whispered, “But mostly I didn’t want to look too, you know, touristy in front of that waiter guy.” Clark looked darkly at their current waiter, who couldn’t have cared less.

Lex agreed. “Promise, I won’t order something your Mom would want to drown in a saucer of beer.” He ordered Rognons de Veau, and Clark was less than thrilled to find he was supposed to enjoy a meal of veal kidneys…but he ate them and claimed to find them tasty and Lex really wanted to feel bad for teasing Clark but there was a twelve year old deep inside of him who was crowing ‘Clark ate kidneys for *me*!’

Lex laughed softly at himself and Clark lifted his head from the book he was reading, and smiled. Lex smiled back and again as he did every day, prayed for strength. It was getting harder and harder to be…good…and only seven days had passed and he had eleven more weeks to go. God. Something was going to give, and it was probably going to be his mind….

Lex brought himself back to the business at hand--Clark was promised a day visiting the Tower, and lunch at the Jules Verne restaurant, for which he’d neglected to make a reservations, but that was what Marlene was for, and she was just a phone call away.

 

He folded his cell with a feeling of satisfaction. He knew they’d get a reservation even if the woman had to go in and kill someone to get a table. That’s why she worked for LuthorCorp—she had the looks of an elegant saluki combined with the tenacity and fearlessness of a pitbull and if she proved to be as capable and efficient as he suspected she was, by summer’s end she’d be working for LexCorp. In the meantime, Lex had decided that Clark needed something different to wear, something a little more au courant—so they were on their way, window-shopping as they strolled along the street on Clark’s insistence.

The streets were an odd mixture of the old and the modern, as if the modern world had in parts been pasted slapdash over the centuries…Lex rather liked the effect. He glanced at Clark to see how he liked it and Clark seemed delighted by every little thing. He made a beeline to a pastry shop, and looked longingly at the confections in the window—he gaped at the healthy and unclothed models on the kiosk ads, laughed out loud at the motor scooters chugging through the streets

Well, Lex granted that if you were used to a Harley or whatever his dad’s bike was, a motor scooter must seem a ridiculous sight. Clark looked back at Lex, and said, “See, this is why we shouldn’t take the car everywhere. You miss such great stuff that way!” he bounded off again as Lex nodded and reminded himself that everything was shiny new and fresh to Clark. He sighed. He could barely remember being that young, that excited by life—damn, was he *ever* like that? And how pathetic was it that he was thinking this way and he was only six years older than Clark—shit.

He allowed himself the luxury of looking at Clark, really looking, watching him…the way he tossed his hair back from his forehead, the way he got a little crease between his eyes when he concentrated, how green his eyes were in the afternoon light and how red his cheeks because he blushed so easily--from embarrassment, from pleasure, from excitement… Lex was so wrapped up in enjoying Clark’s enjoyment that it took a moment for him to register that his name was being called.

“Alexander! Alexander—is it really you?” A handsome couple ran up to him and embraced him, as Clark stood by open-mouthed.

The young woman smacked Lex lightly on the arm. “You naughty thing! How could you come and not tell us?” she made a pout at Lex, but checked Clark out from head to toe. Lex knew that Clark had just gotten the most thorough visual examination he was ever likely to receive--He was willing to bet she could tell him if Clark was cut or not…the man with her looked almost exactly like her, he grinned happily, and opened his mouth to speak, eyeing Clark as intensely as his sister had--shit!

Lex hastily tried to draw attention away from his defenseless young friend. “Please let me introduce you to Clark, a young, *very* young, friend of mine—his parents asked me to keep him *safe* as he travels.” Lex shrugged and smirked and shook his head in a dismissive way.

“Ah!” they said together, and Clark disappeared from their notice.

Lex hoped that later he’d be able to make Clark understand what happened, because right now, he looked pretty angry and he knew how much Clark hated it when he treated him like a kid, and he knew how hair trigger his mouth was when he was angry. Damn it. He managed to turn the conversation back to introductions.

“Clark, this is Alain and Yvette, I went to school with Alain. I’m so surprised to see you two,” he said, and Clark scowled. Lex felt sympathy with Clark, he wasn’t sure whether he was glad to see them or not. Sure, the twins could be awfully good fun-- he felt an awakening tickle of a long dormant itch—ah, but they could be terrible trouble too.

Maybe they’d matured somewhat since last they met. Anything was possible.

After coming along on their shopping trip, and totally ruining Lex’s fantasies of Clark and dressing rooms in little boutiques, they also invited themselves to dinner, of course, and monopolized the conversation, of course, with awful stories of Lex’s misguided youth that, thank God, didn’t involve any of his sexual misadventures. It was bad enough to see Clark go from mildly interested to amused to outright shock, he kept sneaking looks full of horrified amazement. Lex could feel himself blushing—shut up, shut up—shut up! Outwardly he smiled and laughed and affected a world-weary attitude, he shrugged and totally ignored any questions Clark had.

After dinner, Alain and Yvette somehow managed to also invite themselves along for the tour of the Eiffel—all the while laughing at how adorably touristy Clark was, how delightfully simple and unaffected—pretty much code for stupid but hot.

Yvette seemed mildly interested, but Alain…Lex caught him staring several times at Clark with a look he knew all too well. He’d have to let him know that Clark was not on the menu—and let his sister know as well—Clark was not about to become this season’s cat-toy.  
He got rid of them at the hotel amid a flurry of kisses and hugs that left Clark visibly dizzy, promised to catch up with them again the next afternoon.

The two rode the elevator in silence, giving Lex plenty of quiet to hear the grinding and creaking of vintage machinery as the elevator ground to their floor. He huffed something to Clark about the injustice of paying through the nose for atmosphere and gaining discomfort as part of the bargain, waiting for Clark to leap on the bait he dangled and tease him about being cheap, but Clark ignored him.

He didn’t seem angry, just preoccupied and—and a little sad. Maybe jetlag was just catching up with him—even Clark had to have a limit to his energy. Maybe he was a touch homesick…yes, that had to be it, Lex thought, he was homesick.

He let them into their room. ‘Their room. ’ It made him smile and sent a shivery little lick of contentment down his spine.

Once inside, Clark seemed to shake off his mood somewhat, enough that he smiled back and squeezed Lex’s shoulder before heading to his room with a wave and a “Good night.”

Lex stood next to the balcony, feeling oddly disappointed. He’d been looking forward to talking to Clark about the trip so far…what he’d thought of the flight and the city, how it felt to be in Paris…  
He watched the sun set, lighting the Eiffel Tower from within, so that it stood like a web of black steel against the gold sky.

Clark should be here, watching it with him—like they had every night since they’d been in Paris. Clark loved watching the lights blink on across the city, loved watching lights illuminate the Tower and the streets below and Lex loved watching Clark, the changing light’s effect on Clark’s eyes, how it made his skin glow…he sighed and listened to Clark wash up for bed and tried not to think of him standing in the bathroom, maybe dressed in nothing but a towel or maybe he was in the bath tub, embraced by nothing but water, clear, lovely water…he groaned and nearly ran to his room, locking the door behind him.

He lay on his bed and just—gave up. What the hell, his door was shut, it was dark, and the hotel provided the silkiest, finest lotion as a gift for their guests, right in a little fabric lined basket on the bedside table. He’d dig that lube out of his kit bag tomorrow.  


9 Things Are Heating Up…Maybe

The Eiffel Tower was amazing and awe-inspiring. Clark was astounded at what those old guys could do. He tried to imagine something like this in Smallville and the only image he could come up with was the windmill in Chandler’s Field, with the Eiffel Tower looming behind it in the background. He smiled to himself. Yep, Smallville, the Paris of the Prairie.

It would have been even more fascinating if Yvette could have shut up about herself for even one minute, could have stopped showing off unfortunately excellent English for one precious, silent second. But no—and now she was lecturing him about the esthetics of the Tower… huge snooze.

‘I think the tower represents the pinnacle of achievement in man’s search for blending the artistic and the functional, it is machine as art, don’t you feel? It strives to serve the heart as well as the body…” Clark nodded and let his eyes glaze over, nodding and smiling, nodding and smiling, and doing his own version of Mystery Science Theater in his head. He glanced at Lex, who looked as glazed over with her babbling as he did.

She waved her hands about and spoke loud enough for the surrounding crowd to be awed at her acuity, and Clark thought, Gee, except for the endless yapping, she kind of reminds me of Lana—and felt stricken by the enormous betrayal of Lana, his Lana--what was he thinking—she was nothing like this obnoxious though admittedly hot as hell poser. Lana wasn’t loud, obnoxious, and self-centered…she didn’t talk about herself non-stop…she didn’t think she was the center of all…Crap.

Lana was kind of…self-centered…a little. Just a little. She did seem able to turn even the most innocuous conversation into a deep discussion and examination of her pain and her bravery in facing that pain…oh gosh. He reached a rather painful epiphany-- she *was* almost as bad as Yvette…He turned to Lex and wanted to ask him his opinion, Lex knew how he felt—or maybe, a creeping slithery slippery little thought slinked through his brain—maybe, how he *had* felt about her, but Lex was suffering so openly and obviously that Clark hesitated. Instead he leaned in and whispered, “Please tell me you never had sex with her,” trying to make him laugh.

He glowed inside when he succeeded. “Worse,” Lex flushed and muttered, “I did it more than once. And She. Never. Shut. Up. Then. Either.” He ground out between clenched teeth.

Clark felt somehow he’d won a major battle. He could afford to be magnanimous and smile at Yvette, who stuttered slightly and stared at Clark. Alain, her brother, stood too close to Lex and watched his sister and Clark. Clark grimaced.

Alain had a way of making him feel really strange and uncomfortable, like something prickly was trying to crawl under his skin. His expression was kind of…hungry, greedy, and horrible images flashed through Clark’s mind, of Lex and Yvette—and Alain. Clark froze inside—how—what—geez...*that* was in his brain? A chill ran down his back. Wow. He was kind of …a perv. Hunh.

He looked back at Alain, who caught his look and smiled, licked his lips. Clark scowled at him. He really, *really* didn’t like him.

Lex meanwhile gave Clark a quick run-down on the Tower history and Clark ignored the Two Stooges and gave himself up to enjoying the lecture, and Lex’s enthusiasm for it, the sound of his voice rolling over him. Yeah. This is what he’d wanted. Lex talking to him, telling him stuff he thought he should know, his velvet voice flowing over him like the hand it should be—what?

Clark shook himself. Whooo. Tired…his mind was definitely wandering. It was past time for lunch, the Stooges had monopolized every bit of this day and Lex didn’t even seem like he liked them that much and Clark was beginning to suspect he might have a jealousy problem. Maybe he wasn’t very good at sharing Lex’s attention…or maybe he just didn’t like the way the snotty Stooges took Lex over like he belonged to them. Old friends. Yeah. I’m sure...

Lunch better be damn good because something had to go right, darn it.

He caught sight of himself in the glass window of one of the shops and he was surprised, really surprised at how different he looked. More like the guys around them and a little less like the big geeky American tourist he knew he really was. He’d let Lex talk him into actually wearing one of the outfits he’d bought him—and wasn’t it going to be fun explaining to Dad why Lex spent a fortune on clothes for him when they got back home.

The shirt was kind of tight and a little short--every time he moved it showed a little skin, but Lex told him it looked good and best of all, it was his favorite colors, blue and when he rolled the sleeves up, they were lined in red, plus the little bit around the neckline was red. Lex swore he didn’t look dorky, so…he smiled shyly at himself, feeling a little silly for checking himself out.

Lex whispered to him, “Yes, Clark. You look good.” He flushed deep red, and then thankfully they were in the restaurant and he gave his mind over to the thought of food. Lots of it. And lots and lots of very cold stuff to drink, he thought. Lots.

10 Did We Really Order This?

They had a few good days again in which they were alone, and they toured some museums and some churches because you had to, it wouldn’t be right not to, Clark thought. He’d fallen hard for the Louvre, and Lex had been obviously pleased with him. They saw a little of everything, some ancient pieces, Egyptian and Roman and Persian art, and Lex knew something about all of it. Clark marveled. When had he had time to develop a reputation as a bad boy? He was just such an enormous geek…

Clark followed Lex in a happy daze. Looking at the sculpture made his hands itch to form something as wonderful, and the paintings amazed him. It was nothing like looking at copies in books or cards. He’d been amazed that the way the paint was applied to the canvas was sometimes as fascinating as the actual picture.

Of course, he’d looked at the Mona Lisa, carefully protected from the public. Lex smiled, shrugged and patted him on the back when Clark saw with dismay the crowd in front of the famous painting was huge, piled against the wooden banister that helped protect the world’s most famous lady from her admirers. Lex walked away to look at the other paintings, leaving Clark straining to see something over the crowd and finally he just used the vision thing to look at the painting closely. He grinned to himself. No doubt he was getting a better look than any tourist had had for years and years. Sometimes having these ‘abilities ‘ made life a little easier. He turned to look for Lex—and sometimes not. Lex was standing next to him again, watching him, the way he sometimes did at home, that look that said ‘I know something’s up, and you’re never ever going to tell me are you?’ and there was that distance again…Clark tried to hide a sigh.

Clark bought postcards and touristy souvenirs for his Mom and friends. He bought one for himself, one that he tucked under the others. The card was of a painting that had grabbed his eye and he couldn’t walk away from it. It was simple, just a young man sitting on a rock surrounded by ocean, Clark imagined he was catching his breath after swimming out to the rocks, and the painter captured his moment of rest…the thoughts, the feeling it caused, embarrassed him but, it was just so…arresting. He’d make sure to ask Lex about it some other time.

Clark loved every day that they were in Paris. They went sight-seeing, they shopped--he bought something for everyone at home--and they ate and ate, until Clark was convinced he was in heaven, a wonderful heaven that contained nothing but food and Lex and he wanted to take more time to think about that. Since the day at the Eiffel Tower when he realized his ideal princess suddenly wasn’t quite that ideal, he’d been people watching. Trying to see what it was that made a couple, what made people click, searching for that…thing… that would explain all.

One particular morning found them seated outside at a café, Lex was reading a local morning paper because in his own way, Clark decided, he was as much a show off as Yvette. He frowned as he snuck little glances at Lex, watching him read and make little comments to himself in French, laugh a little, frown a little—geez, what an Yvette he could be. He smirked at Lex, rolled his eyes a little when he looked up at him. Lex instantly assumed the ‘Pardon Me, Is There A Problem?’ look. Clark shook his head no and tried not to laugh out loud.

He turned back to his breakfast, chewing happily away on croissants that didn’t taste a darn thing like the croissants at the Dillon’s, thank goodness, and drinking cocoa that had as much resemblance to cocoa in Smallville as pigs had to swans. He forced himself to stop watching Lex and watched the crowd instead, sipping idly and doodling on a cardboard coaster with Lex’s pen until he found his attention drawn to a couple on the sidewalk.

They seemed happy together. Clark watched the young man cup the girl’s elbow and lean in to whisper something in her ear. She threw her head back and laughed, a deep delighted sound. The boy grinned happily with an air of accomplishment and Clark thought with surprise, he’s beautiful. Just as beautiful as his postcard, the one of the painting of the boy by the sea.

He kept looking, drawn to the joy on the young man’s face, drawn to the shape of his face, to his hand, still cupped around the girl’s delicate pointy elbow, the strangely jerky-graceful movements of his body as he moved around his girl, checking her outfit out admiringly—he moved like a colt, Clark thought, so cute…finally his thoughts really, *really* registered with him. His thoughts *and* the semi he covered swiftly with the enormous starched white napkin, nearly big as a blanket and for that Clark was extremely grateful. He blushed violently and thought, is it an alien thing? Did all his people suddenly become bi at some point? Because until that moment he’d never ever looked at another man’s ass and wondered what it would feel like under his palm.  
Ouch.

He squirmed a bit. The nicely tailored flat-front khaki pants he was wearing (thanks to Lex) didn’t provide the…space that a comfy pair of board shorts did. He arranged the napkin higher on his lap, shoved the croissant he’d been nibbling at in his mouth, chewed like a combine and gulped at his cocoa.

He was licking the whipped cream from the cocoa off his upper lip when he glanced up from the table and caught the guy looking at him. Staring at his mouth. Licking his own lip in reflex. His girl giggled and elbowed him in the ribs. The guy blushed and laughed and the ‘couple’ walked away, leaving Clark swirling in a whirlpool of emotion and confusion. What was going on? How was he supposed to handle this? How could he tell Lex? Should he?

And then his happiness became complete, up the street came the Two Stooges. They called out to them.  
“But this is wonderful! How fortunate to see you here!”

Clark groaned silently but Lex—Lex looked a little sharper, a little less like Lex and more like…Clark shivered. Lionel? Someone a lot less nice then Lex was, anyway. What was up?

They talked over coffees, and Clark idled away the time looking at guys on the street, checking his responses. He also looked at Lex. And also looked at Alain and Yvette, but not Alain so much, because he had to fight the urge to slap him unconscious too much.

He heard Alain exclaim, “No! So soon?” and he turned his eyes toward Clark. “Why are you leaving our country all ready?”

Oh. That. Clark shrugged and wanted to look away but Alain grabbed his wrist and Clark got very still---it wouldn’t do to dislocate the guy’s shoulder by yanking his hand away. “Don’t you want to stay, Clark? It’s only been--”

“Two weeks,” his sister cut in and smiled. Side by side, smiling away, the effect they created to Clark was…eerie. They looked so much alike, identical pointed little faces; little round pink cheeks, mobile expressive mouth and full lips, and both had the most amazing scarily huge, round, blue eyes ever. The blue of their eyes was so, so bright they almost looked clear, and the pupils looked bigger and blacker because of the clarity…they should be beautiful, Clark thought but they were creepy—like elves were creepy, why wasn’t everyone terrified of elves, scary friking things they were—Clark came back to the conversation with a jolt. He really needed to stop this mental wandering…what the heck were they talking about now?

“Of course,” Lex smiled, “Please come see us tonight. It would be nice to spend an evening with you since we leave tomorrow afternoon.”

What the heck? Lex *wanted* to spend time with the Stooges? Clark frowned. Why the hell would he want the Stooges around—he knew he wasn’t all that crazy about them. He glanced at Lex who was staring at Alain like…like he should be staring at him.

Clark refused to think about it anymore. He decided instead to concentrate on the fact that the Two Stooges were going to ruin his last night in Paris and to hate them very much. Butt-heads.

Once again life proved to be surprising--that night actually turned out to be fun. Clark almost felt a little guilty at how much he enjoyed hanging out with the Stooges when he really did hate them so much, but they made Lex laugh a lot, the real laugh, the kind of goofy and sweet laugh that always made him feel warm and Yvette had a very cute laugh too—plus she kept slipping him sips of wine from her glass—and Alain did too. The little bar was so nice, with its exposed brick walls and rattan furniture, and some sort of jazz combo playing away…he just felt so—continental—but wisely refrained from saying so. Finally the others stood, and Yvette and Alain pulled Clark to his feet, and amidst a lot of stumbling and laughter and teasing, they made their way back to the hotel.


	2. Chapter 2

11 Sometimes It Seems Like A Good Idea…

Clark felt a little bleary, and little fuzzy and a little giddy. He giggled at everything Yvette said and Lex looked so shiny and happy and pretty and …he leaned over and sniffed. Yep. That was Lex smelling so good. In fact he smelled so good he leaned in again, shoved his nose in the crook of his neck and sniffed loudly. Lex jumped back and looked at him in open-mouthed astonishment for a moment, and then burst into laughter. “Did you just smell me?”

Clark watched a thousand Lexes laughing in the mirrored interior of the elevator and grinned back. “Unh-hunh.” He felt rather proud of himself and he wanted to tell Lex what he’d realized, that a Lex Luthor was much more fascinating and pretty than a Lana Lang, but he wasn’t sure which one of the shiny, happy Lexes he should tell….

The brother and sister exchanged grins and Clark didn’t care what they thought. He felt good right now and he planned to keep feeling good. Okay, his plans were kind of nebulous and included Lex in some vague but pants tightening way. Unless he was reading the signals Alain had thrown Lex wrong, if he worked hard, he might have a chance of explaining to Lex what he’d discovered. He was pretty sure the guy’s hand on Lex’s ass all the way up in the elevator signaled that there was a possibility Lex might be receptive to his wonderful discovery. Heck, thinking about the way he’d guzzled and just about sucked on those bottles of Tynant and all those pool cues he’d fondled in front of him, Lex might even be happy about the idea.

Sadly those plans nose-dived into flaming wreckage when they entered their suite. Lex commanded Clark to go to bed.

“What?” Clark was deeply offended and kind of hurt.

“It’s kind of past bedtime for you Clark—we have an early flight tomorrow. You really should get some sleep.”

The siblings sat on either side of Lex on the couch, like sleek and self-satisfied vultures. Their fingers danced all over Lex, fleeting little touches here and there on his shoulders, his neck, his throat…Lex didn’t stop them and Clark got angrier and angrier until he suddenly felt a weird unsettling warmth at the back of his eyes and quickly shut them. Damn!

He hadn’t lost control of his heat vision like this since the first time it appeared, when Desiree tried to move in on Lex…and that memory wasn’t helping either...he gulped and kept his eyes shut. Okay, maybe the alcohol was screwing up his ability to control himself. Yeah, that was it. He weaved on his feet. Okay, all right-- he was totally drunk. When had that happened?

He snarled and whirled around and stalked off to his bedroom. He felt a sharp lance of pain behind his eyelids when he heard laughter floating behind him.

Clark woke up startled. He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep. He was sprawled across the bed, naked. At some point he’d stripped his clothes off, and he did remember being horribly, horribly hot, he must have been more affected by the wine then he’d thought. His head was whirling slowly and his stomach was looping in gentle circles. The room was quiet and totally dark.

Lex must have gone to bed too, the whole suite was quiet…Clark was about to go back to sleep when he heard a strange noise, a weird drawn out moan, a sound like—he blushed, could feel it flaming from his hairline to his toes. It sounded like sex. He knew somehow it was Lex—Wow. Lex must be…doing… it. Doing—having sex, wasn’t there any way to put it so it didn’t sound so…oh my god, there he went again.

Clark felt his penis surge against his thigh and he cupped himself and looked down. “Forget it. You don’t have a date with anyone but me,” he muttered bitterly. He threw his head back against the pillows and told the ceiling, “I’ll be a virgin ‘til I die.”

He stared at his bedroom door. Would it be wrong to stand outside *Lex’s* bedroom door and listen? How about if he just sat here and just turned up the vision and…peeked? Just a little…or maybe listen, just a bit—what was the use of having the ability to do those things if you didn’t use it once in a while….

No—God no! What was he thinking…standing outside his door was creepy and wrong, besides what if Yvette came out and decided to describe what was happening behind that door blow by blow and explain how it was a melding of flesh and art—and using his powers—that was just…just---okay, way tempting but so, so, *so* wrong….

God, Lex was making noise again, he sounded so sexy. Clark wondered if he was getting close to coming… this is so perverted, he moaned to himself and squeezed a little harder. He was about to put his pillow over his head when he heard Alain’s voice clearly as if he were sitting on the bed with him. “Suck me little rabbit, you do it so well.”

That wasn’t his fault! His ears just lost control. He pouted. It was all Lex’s damn fault with all the sexiness and the…

Wait a minute.

Shit!! *Alain* was in there with him. I was so right! I knew Lex liked guys too! He thought triumphantly, until he realized it might possibly have been him in there with Lex instead. God damn Stooge bastard!

Clark shoved down under the covers until his head was covered. He was going to stay here until morning came or until the desire to rip Alain apart faded…a high feminine scream made him jump.

Wait a minute, what the fuck…Alain *and* Yvette were in there? It was true—Lex was a freak. He gasped, dizzy and certain that every drop of blood in his body had just rushed to his crotch. He was harder than he could ever remember being and it was murderous. He reached for the stupid little basket by the bedside and knocked it over lunging for the lotion in it. He hoped sincerely it didn’t have some weird fruity smell, but really, at this point it could have smelled like—like fricking gardenias—he didn’t care anymore. He squeezed a handful out of the bottle and began stroking himself, rough and fast—he needed to come and come right now.

He was actively trying to keep Lex out of his head and come anyway when a hand drifted across his chest and pinched a nipple.

Only years and years of trying to appear human kept Clark from reacting the way his body was screaming for him too, and thus Yvette was spared being knocked through a wall.

Clark’s eyes shot open and locked on hers. She was standing over him, wearing nothing but a wicked smile. “Oh, my,” she breathed, looking down at Clark like he was a feast spread out just for her. “It’s true what they say about big feet.”

She smiled and climbed onto the bed, and Clark’s penis twitched when she lowered herself over him, hot and wet--a moan burst from him as she rubbed herself across his erection. He grabbed her hips, fingers flexing over her rear, and bucked up against her, trying to get more friction, more sensation. She groaned, chuckled and leaned forward, her tongue blazing a trail from nipple to nipple, stopping to nip and suck and Clark felt woozy with the wonderfully unfamiliar sensation and the smell, the wonderfully familiar smell.

He sniffed deep and his penis flexed hard, pulsed wetly. Yvette gasped and rocked hard against him. “Again,” she said and Clark sniffed deep and began to rock back, groaning. She lifted her hips off of him and held his penis upright in her hot little hand, began to lower herself again and Clark yelped when the head of his dick brushed against her, slid over her and not quite into her. Oh my God, I’m going to have actual sex, sex with another person—sex with not my hand he babbled to himself and shook all over. No, not now—wait! He yelled silently at his poor over stimulated penis.

Yvette stopped moving suddenly and Clark groaned. She hovered over him, a look of understanding dawning on her face, followed by a look that would do a hungry lioness proud. Clark moaned and bit his lip. Oooooh, God don’t stop…going to come right now… and she asked, “Are you a virgin?”  
Now? Conversation now? He began to shake his head no, sighed and nodded.

“How wonderful—Lex was a virgin too our first time—oh,” a thoughtful look on her face as she continued, “and also a virgin with Alain!”

Clark gasped, quivered, and at that moment several things happened at once-- the door opened and Alain looked over his sister’s shoulder, and behind him, looking appalled--Clark closed his eyes and gasped out, "*Lex!*" and began to come and Yvette and her heat were abruptly gone-- he came alone, over his chest and belly, penis pulsing hard, the most embarrassing sounds tearing out of his throat and he just knew it had to be a dream, a nightmare, a hallucination. He imagined he heard Yvette say something and he desperately tried to pry his eyes open but they were too heavy and he was so tired and the room was spinning again….  


12 Okay, What Happened Was…

Marlene soared into the room, bright, cheerful, perfectly turned out and gorgeous. She had a new packet of information, two cups of coffee and an obnoxiously happy smile, Lex snarled at her and rethought his original decision to hire her away from LuthorCorp, instead he mulled over the idea of putting a hit on her. She chattered on about the itinerary, the plan for lodgings in Italy and miscellaneous odds and ends as she pulled open the curtains covering the balcony door. Lex made a sound like a distressed pirate and covered his flaming eyes. He dropped his head between his hands and breathed to the rhythm of his throbbing head. A few more minutes and this pain would be a memory but it was intense while it lasted. He knew that the amount of drinking he’d indulged in *should* make him suffer for most of the day but at least Smallville had given him something when it took his hair—after a ton of tests and lots of experimentation, controlled and…casual…he knew that he’d gained a gift of healing quickly, from the colds that he really never got anymore, all the way to life-threatening illness and accidents. And, as he found out in his misspent youth, the ability to quickly recover from the world’s most ass kicking wish-you –were- dead-hangovers with little after-affects.

He hoped deeply and sincerely that The Twins were drowning in their own puke, but, he mused sadly, he never got what he wished for.

“Marlene, I’m going to meet the car. Wake Clark up and get him ready. Please.”

She nodded and watched him get his jacket. He appreciated that she asked no questions. Maybe he’d hold off on that hit.

He rode the elevator down and thought about what he was going to say to Clark. He didn’t want to explain why he did what he did, or ask any questions, and he certainly wasn’t about to let him know he was practically bowed over under the weight of tremendous guilt.

Clark—a virgin. He should have known. Hoped he was Clark was so unbelievably naïve, he should have known he was a virgin, but those sharks--they zeroed right in on that.

If he hadn’t been so weak and self-centered, Clark wouldn’t have been in that position. That wasn’t the way to lose one’s virginity—he knew from experience it wasn’t the way. He snarled to himself. What happened last night wasn’t seduction—it was practically rape….

Lex strode across the hotel lobby, his steps muffled in the thick carpet, out to the front steps. The sunlight wasn’t quiet as acidicly bright, and his head throbbed less rhythmically now.

Damn. The fault was his alone. He was tired of being alone, that’s what brought it on. Tired of constantly holding his true feelings in, tired of pretending to Clark and himself that friendship was all he wanted. And then those—those sharks showed up and he was just so damn horny and hell, they were very pretty in bed. He shrugged, and froze at a small sound drifting over his shoulder.  


Ah.  


He’d been having these thoughts out loud. All right then. Don’t look left or right, steady on, act superior…Lex sneered slightly at the young man holding a handful of newspapers. “Paper, sir?” the kid asked with a grin.

Lex lifted an eyebrow and tried to look completely disinterested, walked away and the kid snickered.

Yvette—bitch. She’d seen his interest—oh shit. Be honest. His absolute *lust*-- for Clark in the first few minutes she’d met him. Of course she had to jump in and try to bag him. And Alain…if he hadn’t kept him busy, Lex had no doubt he’d have made it farther than his sister did. Clark being straight wouldn’t have hindered that little monster one bit—he could talk a nun out of her panties. He knew, he’d been there….

He climbed into the car and waited for Marlene to bring Clark. The door opened and Clark climbed inside, expression like a Kansas storm and Marlene looked a little less perfectly polished. If it was at all possible, Lex thought, one might even say she was the tiniest bit frazzled.

“Lex,” Clark started, “she won’t let me bring my bag!”

Lex looked at Marlene, eyebrows raised in question.

“I tried to explain to him sir, that the bags would follow but he refused to believe me—he insisted on asking you, and he wouldn’t leave his suitcase--”

Clark grinned in triumph as Lex looked out the open door and saw a strangely lumpy looking suitcase on the curb.

“Ah. Marlene, don’t worry.” There was no way she could have known that it was a losing battle the moment Clark decided to fight.

“Clark,” he said slowly and clearly. “Why didn’t you call me on your phone?”

Clark looked momentarily confused. And then, “…Oh. Yeah. Um.”

Marlene looked at Clark, wearing her own expression of triumph and Lex asked her, again in the patient tones of a man dealing with not necessarily dangerous lunatics, “Why didn’t *you* call me?” She lost it completely for a moment, her mouth gaped, closed and she blinked.

Les looked at both of them, and shook his head. “Thank you Marlene, I trust you can handle the bag.” He ignored Clark’s yelp of ‘Lex! No!’ and signaled for her to close the car door.

“Clark, our luggage will be at our next place of residence, relax. Seriously, I mean for you to relax, okay. And about last night….

Clark wanted to die. Don’t talk about last night, don’t talk about it, please don’t talk about it! Yes?” He forced a look of irritation, huffed ferociously and Lex sighed.

“You can’t drink. Don’t drink. Drinking is not your friend, especially as long as you’re with me. I shouldn’t have indulged myself, I know better…” Lex looked enormously pained and closed his eyes momentarily before continuing. “I promised to bring you back to your parents in one piece and I mean to do it.”

Clark blushed, felt like an idiot. Drinking was so not his friend. His eyes ached and his sinuses felt like they were packed with ground glass. He wondered if his reaction had something to do with his alien metabolism. No one should have gotten that drunk that fast on a few sips of wine…he refocused on Lex and glowered. “Is this about last night--I mean Yvette?” He blushed deeper and growled more. “I’m old enough—past old enough, geez, I’m the last virgin in Smallville for cripes sake!” He blushed impossibly redder, his cheeks and his chin, his nose and ears and his neck were all flaming red, he could see himself in the mirrored glass separating the driver from the passengers…fuck! And blushed more… “Besides of all people, you should understand! You should be trying to get me laid!” hey…was *Lex* blushing? "I mean, what were you, like-- fifteen, sixteen the first time?”

“Thirteen and it was horribly wrong and this isn’t about me,” Lex began, and Clark broke in with a high-pitched yelp of outrage.

“*Thirteen*! Thirteen! And I’m eighteen! *Eighteen* do you hear me? And last night was the closest…”

Lex looked ill, and when he spoke, instead of yelling or getting that deadly quiet voice that meant, ‘I’m one step from gutting you like a trout’, he sounded…sad.

“Clark, do you want to spend the rest of your summer screwing girls across the continent, is that it? Is that all you wanted from this trip?”

“No!—I mean--no! ” In his mind Clark shouted not girls—you! I want you, damn it!

Lex just stared, looking every bit as sad and tired as he sounded. Clark huffed again and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. He could hear Lex moving about on the seat opposite him, the click of his briefcase opening. He must have had it in the car, he thought. He wasn’t supposed to have it with him…he could hear the tap tapping of his fingers on his laptop keypad. Great, now he’s working—it’s my fault, I pissed him off and now he’s going to spend the rest of the time working and how do I tell him, how can I make him want me like he wanted Alain?

If he weren’t eighteen and a man, he’d cry. Crap.

Lex sighed, and Clark’s heart skipped a beat. Look at me--I'm right here…  


13 Oh Italy!

Instead of a limousine and an efficient LuthorCorp employee waiting for them when they landed in Florence, a red convertible waited near the terminal and someone was sitting in the back, waving madly and yelling “Lex” at the top of his lungs. When Lex waved him over he leaped off the car and ran over to them, and grabbed Lex up in a huge hug. He actually swung him off his feet, like Lex was just some ordinary guy, and Lex—Lex laughed.

A lot.

Loudly.

Clark looked on sourly and then the guy turned to him, arms still around Lex and smiling widely said, "Hello! You are Clark! I am Emilio, an old and very, very dear,” he smirked at Lex’s exasperated snort, “friend of Lex’s. I’ve heard so much about you, and now I finally meet you!” He threw his arms around Clark and hugged him too. And tried to swing him but Clark planted his feet. Nothing short of a tank could have moved him at that point and the guy oofed in surprise and stepped back, eyeballing Clark appreciatively.

“You! You don’t look that strong.” He grinned at Clark as though Clark had done something incredibly clever, just for him. It was such a friendly open, infectious grin Clark couldn’t help smiling back, and immediately Emilio smiled even wider.

“Come! The car is waiting! Everything is ready for us at the villa!”  
Villa? Clark glanced over at Lex who shrugged and smiled back.

Lex started to walk on and stopped short, “Wait. I forgot my briefcase.”

As one Clark and Emilio barked, “Leave it!”

Lex stopped, cocked an eyebrow, and a little smile curved his lips. “Oh I can see I’m going to be in trouble.”

Emilio nodded happily and Clark kept smiling, though he felt a quick sting. Emilio was too friendly with Lex—no, not friendly, familiar--that was the word. Familiar like he probably knew what kind of underwear Lex wore and what side of the bed he liked…Clark tried not to sulk as he walked after the two men, half listening to them talk and wondering sadly what side of the bed Lex *did* prefer, feeling a little sorry for himself—he scowled at Lex’s back.

Great. He finally understood why it had been so easy for him to wait patiently for Lana to make up her mind about him—and why it drove him nuts when Lex didn’t immediately do what he wanted when he wanted. It was obvious who mattered more to him. He wished that he could show Lex what he knew now. And he meant right now. Damn.

Watching the two men walk ahead of him, it was obvious that Lex and Emilio were very close friends. Clark sighed quietly. Guys had to have types too, and obviously he wasn’t Lex’s type. Alain had been small and thin and blonde and Emilio was small and thin and a redhead. Clark didn’t need a detailed picture pointing out the fact that tall and dark was Not. His. Type. Crap.

Clark climbed into the back seat of the convertible and tried to smile at Lex. Lex looked a little concerned, and then Emilio put the car in gear and took off. Lex’s look went from concerned to out-right terror, and Clark hoped against hope that his invulnerability wasn’t a possibility but a cold hard fact—he might need it to be.

Emilio drove as if he was sitting on his living room couch and the road was an amusing hallucination. He talked to Lex, one hand on the wheel and his whole upper body turned to face Lex, asked questions of Clark which required him to turn and look at Clark frozen in fear in the back seat and spoke with his hands an awful lot. Conversation was punctuated with screams of “look out!” and “oh my God!” and Emilio told Lex how much he enjoyed hearing him scream his name--leer--and perhaps later…Lex closed his eyes and began to pray. Emilio found it entirely adorable and insisted that Clark agree. “Look! Look how he pretends to be afraid, it’s too cute!” and Clark began laughing, a shade hysterically but whole-heartedly--Emilio was a nutcase for sure, but he didn’t seem dangerous. He might even be fun, Clark thought, as he watched Lex go pale and pink by turns.

The villa seemed enormous, and even Clark thought it was beautiful. It sat high in the hills and a gently winding tree lined road led to it. It wasn’t isolated, lots of houses and other villas dotted the road, there was a little village spread along the rolling hills and what Clark had seen of it as they whipped through it at supersonic speed was pretty.

Lex and Clark were silent as they climbed out of the car. Emilio chatted on happily about what he had planned for them, places to go, things to do, and the two nodded, just grateful to be alive.

Clark gawked around as they walked up to the villa entrance. This was what he’d expected from Lex, luxury, privacy and a taste of the rich life. He blushed, that was the kind of thinking his dad disliked, and probably part of the reason he didn’t want Clark hanging out with Lex. Not that he wasn’t happy with his life, he was, he really didn’t want it to be different. It was just kind of cool to not have to worry about every little penny. It felt good to point at something and say I want it and to get it, and--and now he was beginning to feel like scum. God—had he been doing that? Was he treating Lex like that? His shoulders slumped. Maybe his dad had a point….

Lex’s voice broke into his horrified thoughts. “Come on, Clark. Let’s get you set up here,” he grinned and Clark tried to smile back. He followed Lex through an archway, goggling at an amazing pool table in one of the rooms they passed on their way to the stairs. Upstairs were four bedrooms and Lex led Clark to one. It wasn’t a very big room, but it was comfortable and simple. Clark loved it. Luxury was great, but this he understood. The room held a bed, a dresser, a chair and a medium sized wardrobe. There was a thick colorful rug on the red tiled floor and a large window opened out to the back of the property.

From the window he could see a swimming pool and patio below. It was nice; it reminded him of the graveled patio on the back of the Castle property. Turning his head and bracing his hands he leaned further out and could see the balcony of the room next to his, and in the distance tall thin trees marched up the hills surrounding the property, white clouds flew across an impossibly blue sky.

The door to his room opened and he heard footsteps, and warmth he was already familiar with spread along his back. Lex joined him, and leaning over him pointed at the balcony and said that’s my room. Clark nodded, but all he really knew was that Lex was touching him, his knee was pressed lightly against the back of his calf, his chest was on his back and his arm touched his shoulder as he pointed at the iron balcony and the whole thing took less than a second and was burned into every cell of Clarks brain. Lex was already at the door and called out to Clark, “You coming? Emilio has lunch set up for us” and Clark shook his head. “Be there in a minute.”

Lex said nothing for a moment and then replied softly, “Okay.”

When he heard the heard the door shut, he slowly expelled the breath he’d been holding. He collapsed against the window frame like a deflating balloon. He had the most horribly raging hard-on, he was blushing from head to toe—God. He just needed a minute to get it together….Geez, Lex was hot and not just hot to look at-- he was *hot*. He was like an oven. It felt so good… Clark still felt the warmth against his body. Wow. Just…Clark shook his head and headed for the shower. Cold, he needed a nice cold one now.  


14 When The Moon Hits Your Eye…

Late that evening they decided to have dinner in the village after Emilio assured them the restaurant there was truly excellent, and the owners were lovely people.

Clark chose one of the outfits Lex had bought for him in France to wear. Clark was proud of himself, since their big shopping trip, he’d only worn the clothes Lex bought him. True, Lex usually asked him to wear a specific item or outfit, but tonight he didn’t and Clark thought he was looking damn good plus Lex would be happy he was dressed nice.

Lex was already in the car, in the driver's seat when Clark joined them on the driveway. Emilio leaped into the back seat, and Clark waited awkwardly for a moment before getting in next to Lex. He turned to the guy sprawled across the back. “Are you sure that you don’t want to be up in the front?” he asked. “I feel kind of weird since it’s your car…”

Lex looked at him from the side of his eye and Emilio laughed. “No, no this is fine!” As Lex drove the winding road Emilio chatted with Clark, Lex having won the keys from him in some way Emilio didn’t specify but Clark’s active imagination was more than happy to provide images for. Clark hated his imagination.

Once in town, they were herded into a quaint little restaurant and Lex asked Clark if he was ready to continue his lessons in regional cuisine. Clark eyed him suspiciously and Lex swore up and down that he wasn’t about to order any animal entrails for him ever again, unless Clark asked. Clark snorted. The idea that he’d order animal innards on purpose was just ridiculous. Lex refrained from mentioning hotdogs and their ingredients.

Emilio ordered wine for Lex, himself *and* Clark.

“One small glass, Clark, a little wine is good for the blood! You’re old enough.”

Clark was not going to be considered a baby by this guy, no way. He got his glass over vehement protest from Lex--which earned him a hand being slapped by Emilio—and Clark wished that he’d had a camera to record the moment of shock on Lex’s face and the evil look he’d gotten from him when he’d burst into laughter….

They toasted each other, and Clark brought the glass to his lips, hesitated as the scent teased his nose, remembering the reaction he’d had to the wine Stooge Girl had given him, but surely that had been a fluke… he decided what the heck—it was only one glass—one tiny glass. It couldn’t hurt…

Dinner passed by in a blur, a fun giggly happy blur. Emilio was a really cool guy, he really was. Lex—Lex was kind of a poop. He really tried to be a buzzkill. Thank goodness Emilio had it together; at least someone else knew how to have fun. By the end of the evening, Clark and Emilio were singing some amusing song and Emilio was teaching him Italian that would come in real handy at a club…or a brothel or something. Clark’s sides hurt from laughing and his cheeks were flushed and the owners made a fuss over him, stuffing him with food. All the while Lex stared at him so hard, he couldn’t take another glass of wine, no matter how much Emilio insisted,—those stormy gray eyes were burning a hole in him.

They made their way back to the car; Clark leaning all over Emilio as the world around him did swoops and dives. It made Clark laugh and Emilio laughed right along with him. Lex was so furious Clark imagined he could see steam pouring from his ears, and it made him laugh harder and made the sane part of him cringe with guilt. Lex, poor Lex, he’d make it up to him. He told Lex so at length, wrapping his arms around him and raining kisses on his lovely bald head—so smooth, so hot….

It took both men to drag Clark to his bedroom—on the way he had to stop and marvel at the beauty of the tile floor, the amazing cunning detail of the dining room table, the brilliance of the door jambs, they were just too clever, the way the slabs of wood fit into the openings…Lex seemed to completely loose it when he tried to explain to him how fabulous the light switches were—gosh, he was really being a poop, really. Emilio on the other hand, was just as fascinated and just as impressed as he was, such an understanding guy, Emilio, and he had really, really soft lips. Nice hands too, and his fingers tasted good.

Then Lex was pulling him by his hair. Or maybe he was stroking his head--Clark wasn’t really sure what happened after they made it to his bedroom. Or almost to his bedroom, they made it as far as his door and suddenly—he was sprinting to the bathroom and everything he ate that day came violently back up. He gagged and puked and puked again, his stomach was doing its best to flatten and turn inside out at the same time. Tears streamed down his face from the strain-he bent forward and did his level best to throw his stomach and kidneys and intestines out through his throat….he could just hear concerned voices in the background, he tried to let Lex know he was okay but the words sounded vaguely like hoorg—hoowarg. Now Lex was yelling and there was door slamming and things breaking.

Clark hung over the toilet bowl and breathed heavily, alert for the waves of nausea that signaled his stomach trying to leave his body once again. His eyes were screwed shut and in the back of his head, way down under his brain a little voice said, ‘feel this tiny little poke? It’s gonna be an axe in your brains in a little bit—just thought you’d want to know….’

A wet cloth swept across his forehead and stayed there, held by a kind hand. The cloth was cool and the hand that held it warm and soothing. It curved over his brow in a way that fit perfectly, cradling his head and even over the foul smell he picked up the clean scent of Lex.

“Are you okay?” Clark nodded silently.

“Think you’re done vomiting?”

Clark winced hard, and nodded again.

“Good. I hope you learned something tonight, Clark.” Clark nodded. He learned that pasta on a plate looked delicious, floating in a toilet bowl, it looked like death. He gagged again, his shoulders shook a little as his abused stomach spewed bile into the toilet and wonderfully hot hands held his shoulders, rubbed his back and soothing words flowed over his ears. He needed comfort words so much at that moment and when Lex said “Poor Clark,” he nearly cried. Thank goodness his eyes were still closed. He moaned when the heat went away, and then a damp cloth wiped his face again, it wiped his neck and his mouth.

“Come on,” Lex said. And Clark stood obediently and followed Lex back to the bedroom. He clasped his hands together in front of his chest and silently watched as Lex turned down his bed, and lifted his arms like a little kid so Lex could take off his shirt and lifted his legs dutifully one by one so Lex could take his pants off. He led Clark to the bed and laid him down, pulled the cool sheets over his body. Hot as Clark was, he still craved the heat of Lex’s hand on his burning head. Lex seemed to read his mind and cupped Clark’s forehead again and when he tried to move away Clark grabbed his hand, almost too hard for a moment, and said clearly, “I love you Lex. I love you.”

Lex nodded and his mouth twisted into a smile. One of those smiles that Clark recognized, his Daddy smile. “Sure. I know you do Clark.”

Clark’s forehead wrinkled, he opened his mouth to protest.  


No really, I do. I really ‘love you’ love you. I want to kiss you. He pulled Lex forward, and their lips met in a long deep kiss, so warm, so wet, Clark sighed happily and Lex moved to his neck and sucked and bit him gently. Lex stroked his shoulders and Clark rolled onto his back, letting Lex touch him everywhere. Oh, oh, that feels so good, he said. And Lex laughed a little and drew his fingertips up the length of his dick, said I know, I love it too, I love touching you. You feel like silk, you make my fingers shiver. He swirled his fingers around the tip and Clark groaned. Lex stared into Clark’s eyes. I love you more than anything in the world, Clark.  
Clark said Oh crap, Lex, this is a goddamn dream isn’t it?  


And woke up.

He stared upwards, and the ceiling above his head was much nicer than then the one at home, there was so much to look at, the beams, the wood, the way the sunlight made little dust motes dance and gleam—it was nearly enough to distract him from the gremlins trying to take the top of his head off with rusty chainsaws.

Clark made a solemn vow never to drink again. Alcohol obviously reacted in a horribly unpleasant non-human way in his non-human system. He’d learned his lesson, painfully, agonizingly. He winced. Humans were lucky they didn’t go through this, he thought and groaned at a particularly vicious stab of pain in his eyeballs. He felt enormously sorry for himself, not only was he in pain, not only had something pooped *and* died on his tongue, but man, Lex was going to give him hell, too—oh. Oh God.

Lex…had he really slobbered all over his head like that? Had he really kissed Emilio? He begged mentally, God, please let that be a dream and while we’re on the subject, what’s the deal with making life such a suck fest anyway? He rolled to his side carefully and groaned. At least thank goodness, he hadn’t done anything noticeably alien…  


15 Feels Like Home

“…The Medici’s!” Emilio shouted as they tore around a curve and headed for a parking area. They screeched to a stop and Clark laid his head against the back of Lex’s seat and Lex counted to ten. His heartbeat slowed and he relaxed enough that the tickle of Clark’s hair against his scalp didn’t make him want to stop breathing.

Clark opened his eyes and asked Emilio what they were doing again, and he told him about San Lorenzo and the Medici Chapels and that they’d find excellent examples of Michelangelo’s work there.  
“He’s an important figure in the Renaissance, you know that right?”

“Excuse me,” Clark huffed with exasperation. “They do teach us some things in school you know. I *had* an art class.”

“Of course, darling, of course you did! Look here, look at this...”

Lex walked after the two, Clark towering over most of the people in the crowd. Quite a few eyes turned Clark’s way, comparing him favorably to the works of art around them. Lex let his mind indulge in a little fantasy; it was so easy to imagine Clark as Renaissance artist’s model, innocent, virginal, so beautiful, about to be seduced by the clever artist who just might bear a slight resemblance to himself—Jesus…he really needed to spend his on-line time more productively, pornography was beginning to warp his brain…he slid his hands in his pockets and discreetly arranged himself and strolled casually after his heart.

 

Emilio swept them along on a stream of chatter, weaving them in and out of the tourists. He held Clark’s hand whenever he came to something he really wanted him to pay attention to and Clark had to admit, Emilio knew his stuff. Just like Lex, he was smart and funny and generous and really good-looking. He couldn’t blame Lex for sleeping with him. He would too, if he was Lex. And so impatient or blind or stupid that he couldn’t see what was right in front of him. “Idiot.”

Lex looked away from the piece he was studying, a Madonna and Child. He murmured, “Hmm? Did you say something, Clark?”

Yes. “No.” You’re an idiot. “I didn’t say anything.” Clark smiled at him until he smiled back and went back to his study. He watched Lex’s face as he studied the statue intently. He seemed…almost sad, and Clark turned his attention to the statue--what was it that held Lex’s focus so intensely?

Sad. Resigned. That’s what Clark thought as he walked around, looking at the work. The baby’s mother held the child on her lap, her hand on him, but her focus was outward, past her child and…into the future, maybe? Knowing terrible pain and loss was coming and she was helpless against it—all she could do for her child was to love him …Clark shook himself.

Wow— *he’d* just gone to a very a weird place …what the heck was with him lately? Ever since he became aware of Lex, things just seemed so…Lex-like.

As if reading his thoughts, Lex walked up to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. Clark fought not to close his eyes and lean into the heat. Damn. In a minute he was going to rub himself against Lex’s legs like a giant cat—ooh. Rub. Legs. Clark grinned wildly at Lex, ears and cheeks rapidly flushing pink and yanked his shirt lower around his hips. “Hey! We’re losing Emilio! Let’s catch up” he squawked and sprinted after him, leaving a no doubt confused Lex behind.

Emilio declared that they should explore the open air market that ran the length of the streets and off they went. Clark secretly thought that was the best part. He liked the churches and museums, he liked them a lot, but he loved the market, exploring the streets and just watching the flow of people around them, it was endlessly fascinating to him.

Emilio left them to head to the Mercato Centrale, the produce market, to ‘pick up a few things for dinner.’ He kissed Lex before he left and waved at Clark.

They walked along the stalls, and Clark asked Lex’s advice about different items for his mom and his dad, and friends. It was great fun for Clark, and more importantly, Lex was totally concentrated on him. He tried to feel bad about it, but he couldn’t, he was floating. It felt too good. Being in Lex’s focus was like—being naked in the sun. He blushed a little and reached for a display of scarves to distract himself from his thoughts.

“What do you think?” He held up a black scarf with silver crescent moons on it to show Lex. His forehead wrinkled and he asked, “For…?”

“Mom?”  


“Only if she’s decided to give readings along with fresh vegetables and pies,” he grinned.

Clark laughed. “Well, help me! I can’t decide.”

Lex rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “She’s *your* mother—you know her better than I do.”

Clark smiled into his eyes. “No, I really need your help, you have better taste than I do.”

“Well, there is that,” he murmured as he sorted through the scarves and finally selected a bright one, with a bold floral motif. “This is the one, it will set her hair off nicely and we’ll get her a sweater to wear with it.”

Clark smiled widely at him see. “See, I knew you could do it. You think of everything,” he said, so warmly that Lex turned startled eyes to him and flushed a little in pleasure at the compliment. Clark’s heart skipped a bit—he wished he could always make Lex smile like that….

“Well. Well…” Lex coughed and smiled. “Let’s find something for your dad.”

 

Sometime later, Clark had a bag holding a pair of simple but well-made (examined and approved by Lex) lined leather gloves for his dad, a necklace for Chloe and Lana each, and a tee-shirt printed with a Ferrari logo for Pete.

They walked along in comfortable silence for a while and then Lex laughed softly, almost to himself.

“You know Clark, Emilio has been talking to me about you.” He stopped and looked at Clark. “He’s told me that I should stop treating you like a child and treat you like a man. Do I do that, treat you like a child?”

Clark thought and said, “Well, sometimes…you think I’m a lot more naïve than I am. Sometimes, you act as if I don’t know my own mind. I do. I’m like anyone else Lex. Once I figure out what I want, I go for it.” His heart hammered and he told himself, Now, Go for it--say something—tell him, you big dumb…

Lex was about to speak when Emilio returned, waving his bags and smiling. “There you are! Let’s go home!” he called out, “and Lex, you drive back.”

Clark shot Emilio a pointed glare, and was about to make a caustic comment about his timing when he realized what he’d said and smiled. There was a distinct possibility Lex and he could finish this conversation later, since it was a sure bet they were getting home alive.

 

Once again Lex retreated into his fortress of ‘We’re Just Great Buds’ and Clark was left not knowing how to bring up the fact that he was desperately in love with him. Maybe he should yell it at him under his balcony--that would be really romantic; right up to the point the guys in white coats came to drag him away.

 

Their final night in Florence, Emilio decided it would be perfect to grill and that Clark should help him prepare the food. Lex was swimming in the pool at the end of the garden and Clark was watching him while he cut up vegetables for the grill, a potentially dangerous activity while staring at quite a lot of unclothed Lex, but hey—impervious to sharp objects.

Lex knifed through the water cleanly, he cut back and forth across the pool effortlessly, totally concentrated on what he was doing. The water flowed over him as smoothly as silk on skin and Clark wanted to be the water, wanted Lex to flow through him like that, kiss him and taste him and drink him…

Emilio leaned into Clark and whispered, “He doesn’t look like he’s enjoying himself, does he. Everything is a challenge to him.”

Clark swallowed and nodded. Emilio slipped his arms around his waist and sighed. “So, we both think he’s wonderful, and neither one of us does something about it.”

Clark stepped out of his arms and faced him. “Looks to me like you do plenty about it.” He burned red and frowned down at the ground.

Emilio laughed and Clark’s head shot up. He didn’t need this guy laughing at him, he already felt bad enough.

Emilio shook his head. “I’m laughing at myself. I’m so willing to settle for what I can get. Do you think I want to be a, what do you call it, a friend with benefits? But Lex always seemed to have something in mind, some one, I suppose. He was waiting; all this time…I think he was waiting for you.”

Clark felt enormously…confused, and a little angry. “But why…why would he have sex with all those people, why would he get engaged to those women…”

“Why did he sleep with me?” He led Clark to the patio set and made him sit. He threw himself in the chair opposite and blew a great breath of exasperation. He asked him again, “Why not? What stopped him—the distant possibility you might care? What did you do to show him he mustn’t?”

Clark opened his mouth, closed it again and stared out at the pool, where Lex still cut through the water. But I show him all the time…

Emilio shook his head. “You see, this is the problem you Americans have, it’s all careful and caution and step by step, you leave no room for passion--terrible!” He leaned forward and grabbed Clark by the back of the neck, gathering a big handful of his hair and shaking him hard. “You want Lex not to have sex? He’s a grown man; it’s what men do. Don’t expect him to wait for you like a monk.”

Emilio returned to the grill, filled plates, and handed two to Clark. “Get him—don’t dance around him like—like a—schoolgirl! You understand?” he rolled his hips and winked. “Show him you’re not a kid; show him you are a man!” He looked at Clark, his hands planted on his hips, head tilted and a little grin bowed his lips. Clark blushed and stared into the plates.

“Yes. I understand you. I know. I just…I’m not sure how to tell him.” Emilio huffed, and Clark went on, “Hey, I’m kind of just getting used to the idea myself. And Lex…he’s –he’s Lex.” As though that explained everything, and Emilio nodded. He seemed to understand Clark perfectly. Clark put the plates on the table and touched Emilio lightly on the arm. “Please don’t sleep with him tonight.”

He put his hand on Clark’s arm. “Go get Lex. Tell him it’s time.”

Clark went to the pool and watched him for a moment more and then told Lex dinner was ready.  


16 When In Rome…

This time, Clark left his bags without a fight, fairly secure that they’d be where they were supposed to be. Lex promised him they’d be delivered to the apartment they were renting for the week they’d spend in Rome—after that they were going on to Austria and then home. Clark felt a huge pang of homesickness. He missed his friends; he even kind of missed the day-to-day routine. Kind of. He sighed a little. This trip was turning out nothing like he’d thought it would. Yes, it was fun, yes, it was very educational-- in a way he’d not expected. Sure, eventually, he’d have discovered why girls just didn’t quite…make him ‘do the whacky’...at home. It was just—being around Lex non-stop really helped to define what it was he liked.

He liked boys.

Period. Full stop.

Hell of a discovery, and wasn’t every one going to be shocked, and wouldn’t Pete find some way to blame it all on Lex. He grinned faintly. Sort of it was Lex’s fault. All slinky and sexy and smelling like…everything in the world he’d ever wanted. Like home and safe and happy and –shit. He was such a girl sometimes. That was Lex’s fault too.

And the fact he was still a virgin, that was Lex’s fault…and what was he going to tell his folks about this thing, why couldn’t Lex just look at him and say, wow, you’re gay! and make a move, why couldn’t Emilio just tell him —slowly Clark’s mood slid from romantic to pissed off.

Lex looked away from the scenery slipping by the limo’s window and caught Clark glaring at him.

“Hey, I thought we resolved your unnatural attachment to your luggage. I promise, it’ll be waiting for you at the apartment, safe and unmolested.”

“I know!” Clark nearly shouted. “I know it will be, darn it!”

Lex and Emilio started at Clark’s outburst, and Emilio began laughing.

Lex frowned. “What? What’s so amusing? What did I miss?”

Emilio chuckled again and Clark was positively vibrating with anger. “You’re such a trouble maker.” He pouted. “You always have to start something.”

Emilio was the very picture of wounded innocence. “Who-- me? When have I done such a thing? Listen; when I leave you in Rome, can I count on you not to kill each other?” Lex looked offended and Clark seemed to swell up like an angry cat. His eyes flashed and a lesser person might have been afraid. Emilio simply smiled back.

“Hey, we did fine in France without a babysitter,” Clark snapped.

Emilio rolled his eyes. “So I heard.”

WHAT! Did Lex tell this guy everything? Did he know about…he caught Emilio’s amused look and blushed in embarrassment and anger. For a guy who was supposed to be Mr. Reticent, he thought, Lex was a hell of a gossip. God damn, what all did he tell Emilio…and when. And what the hell made him think this—this—jerk was a good guy?  
Clark glowered at the other man.

Emilio sighed.

“Clark. Please do not take this in the wrong way, but. Grow. Up.”

Clark snorted “Oh well now, there’s no way I could take *that* in a wrong way. It’s such a compliment!”

Lex looked at them a little puzzled. The conversation may have some meaning for Clark, but he was clueless and not at all eager to join in.

Emilio threw his hands up. “Ah! Sweet, you are breaking my heart, the two of you! You are so…so…”

“Pathetic?” Clark broke in. Lex looked at Clark thoughtfully.

Emilio shook his head. “Mmm—no. Stupid.” he finished.

“Oh, thanks,” Clark muttered. That makes me feel so much better.

The apartment Marlene had arranged for them was spacious, two bedroom, one and a half bath, and furnished with excellent period style pieces. Two bedroom only because Emilio was leaving them to spend time with a friend of his.

Clark heard a commotion in the small hallway off the foyer and walked in to find that their bags had arrived, and Lex was standing there, opening one of Marlene’s packets, looking through notes and tickets and smiling to himself. He whistled quietly as he sorted through the materials and Clark was struck by how relaxed Lex looked. At home when he hung out, he was always one phone call away from shutting him out….  
“Hey, Lex—we get our marching orders?” he grinned.

Lex laughed. “I guess you could say that, be ready for a lot of walking.”

Clark nodded. “Sounds good to me!”

In theory, the Rome visit would be a quiet, reflective, educational visit.  
In theory….

17 And Stuff Blows Up…Figuratively

 

It was warm in the apartment. Very warm, and apparently sometime during the night, someone had stolen into his bedroom and coated him with a thin film of grease. His mouth was puckered and tasted horrible, and he couldn’t wait to brush his teeth and shower until he felt human again, however long it took.

The elegant bathroom at least felt like a soothing oasis in the stupidity that was his life. Why was it that when he tried to do the right thing, it always felt …wrong—painfully wrong? He stepped into the shower and let the hot water run over him. He grabbed a bottle of soap blindly, and jumped when he opened the cap. Clark. Clark had….

He’d grabbed Clark’s soap by mistake. It smelled…like Clark. He poured a small amount in his hand and rubbed it over his chest, sniffing. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander.

It went as far as his crotch and stopped. There was warming there, and rising, and hands moving lower and panting, Clark was on his knees and his mouth was open, a big hand was squeezing and rubbing, a thumb slipping around the tip of--god, fantasy was wonderful—and then reality raised its ugly head. Lex’s enthusiasm flagged. After last night…

Lex was fairly certain that he might have…screwed up….

The previous day, their first day in Rome, had started out nicely.

The Colosseum was impressive, still as overpowering as when he’d first seen it as a skinny little kid. And to take in these sights with Clark, it should have been really special…it *was*--

Clark had been full of questions, why and how and where, and Lex had answered carefully and as thoroughly as he could. It was hard to put into words why it felt so horribly right to tread the grounds that Caesars had once walked, where games were played in which human lives hung in the balance and an imperial thumbs up or down decided the outcome. He could tell Clark why the Colosseum was here, and how it came to be but could he explain to him why it felt like home? Not in a pleasant or comfortable way by any means—it rather reminded him of his life.

He stared for a long time out over the floor of the arena where once heroes died or lived. Clark wouldn’t be out of place in those ranks, he thought, and a vision of him naked except for armor and a sword in his hand, standing alone under a clear hot sun burning down on the sand of the Colosseum, stunned him. Like a young god, that’s how he saw him, and given half the chance Lex would fight his way through a centuria for the opportunity to drop to his knees and worship him the way he should be.

Clark turned towards him and Lex suddenly found the archways behind them utterly fascinating, and hoped the shadows would hide his flaming face. He needed to go away from him, needed to regain self-control and more importantly he needed to have a serious word with his tailor. Pants like these should not be binding, for as costly as they were, he really should have comfortable non-binding---oh for god’s sake, if Clark was going to bend over like that…Lex shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for Clark to stop examining whatever it was that caught his eye and stand upright again. The word erect certainly never once crossed his mind.

They strolled along the streets, looking at shops as Clark made notes about what he wanted to get everyone, and Lex pretended to be interested. He watched Clark walk towards a crowd of tourists, his long legs carrying him swiftly through them, and Lex enjoyed the play of sunlight over the golden hairs dusting his calves and his fingers itched to feel them, he wondered if they were as soft as they looked…god, he’d smack himself but everyone would think he was insane—what the hell, the uncontrolled drooling probably took care of that for him.

They stopped for lunch at a pizzeria, and Clark was impressed that Lex would voluntarily eat pizza until he took a bite of the crisp crust and garden fresh ingredients. He chewed slowly, thoughtfully, and declared it delicious. His eyes closed in enjoyment and his tongue flicked up any crumbs on his lips and Lex watched and wondered if it he should have this pizza flown in for pizza and movie nights at the Castle. He planned to give it some serious consideration.

Clark took pictures of him enjoying the pizza, and Lex smiled widely for the camera. He smiled a lot that afternoon, between the warmth of the sun and the warmth of Clark’s skin against his whenever they sat to rest because he sat so close to him the hairs on his arms tickled his skin…torture. Pure and absolutely pleasurable torture.

They toured the Forum, and as Clark listened to Lex, his eyes locked on his, Lex composed silent little poems to himself about Clark’s eyes, which in the afternoon light were the exact color of a calm ocean. Clark’s attention was concentrated on him, and Lex found he was feeling a little faint under the intense regard...Idiot, he scolded himself. Fool!

This was getting ridiculous. If he didn’t do something about this soon, he was going to explode.

So he began describing in great detail to Clark the evolution of the area from a swampy marsh to the center of Roman life, in fact, a hub of civilization. Clark nodded and marveled at the ruins, correctly admired the sweep of ancient building hugging the rolling hills and commented in just the right way at just the right time.

Lex looked out at the remnants of a great civilization and thought Rome is where I think of my father holding my hand and explaining patiently why every day was a battle to succeed. Why one must strike first and strike hard, never let one’s guard down, never let the barbarians in, and in dad’s world, everyone not a Luthor was a barbarian. That was what he learned in Rome from his father.

He watched the late afternoon sun paint warm shadows across Clark’s face and smiled. He learned from his mother that if you squeezed a snapdragons jaw, it looked like it was laughing. He knew which lesson he preferred…he wondered briefly if Clark had ever made a snapdragon laugh…

Clark broke in on his thoughts. “Lex?”  


"Yes, Clark?”

“Lex…it’s hot. I’d like to buy you an ice-cream.”

“In other words, thus endeth the lesson?” Lex smiled and Clark grinned happily.  


“Yep!” Clark looked content—the way he always did when Lex did what he wanted.

 _God, Clark, I love you, I love you so fucking much…._

They took their time walking back to the apartment; Lex bought some wine on the way home. Lex grinned when Clark shuddered, looking a bit green at the sight of the bottle and because he felt guilty, Lex let him pick out the cheese and fruit to take home. It was almost dark by the time they made it back to the apartment.

Emilio was about to change to go out when they came in and he greeted them with pleasure. He’d met with his friend earlier and was going to leave later in the evening—why not go out since this was their last evening together in Rome? A club would be fun, wouldn’t it?

Lex shrugged, why not, it should be fun and Clark agreed, can’t hurt, right?

Right.  


18 And Then things Really Blew Up…

Emilio’s friend Martin drove them to the club and Clark and Lex sat quietly together in the back. Lex smiled at him whenever he looked his way, and Clark smiled back, but there was a faint line between his eyes and he looked as if he wanted to say something. Lex waited.  
Clark would speak when he figured out how to say what he wanted to say. After all this time, Lex considered himself to be an excellent student of Clark.

The music thumped and banged, the walls of the little club literally ran in sweat, the lights jumped and throbbed and Lex felt anticipation like a tingle in his blood.

He was following Emilio and Martin through the crowds and Clark held on to the back of his belt to keep from being separated—his heart kept trying to match the thump of the bass and his lungs squeezed a bit every time Clark’s grip tightened on his belt. He turned back to look and Clark flashed a huge grin at him. He looked nervous and excited and was making no attempt whatsoever to look cool and unimpressed. Lex laughed-- in his place he would have been acting as if the club was blessed by his presence…Clark was such a sweet kid that sometimes it almost beyond belief.

He planted Clark at the edge of the dance floor and yelled in his ear that he’d be back, and he and Emilio and Martin went for drinks. He got Clark a coke and sipped at his own drink as he slithered through the crowd, letting hips and hands slide off him as he made his way back to Clark.

Clark refused to dance, he knew his limits. He watched Lex, though. Lex liked dancing; Clark could see he was good at it. He danced. And danced and danced and danced…Clark sipped at his glass of coke. He’d managed to make one small glass last through four different people dancing with Lex …and the music was slowing now and what Lex was doing looked a lot less like dancing and a lot more like—“Lex!”

Lex’s head whipped around, his eyes large and his teeth bared—he looked like a panther, Clark thought, and blushed. Oh gosh, maybe he shouldn’t have sounded so urgent? Clark tentatively waved his glass in the air and Lex looked angry at first and then shook his head and laughed.

He came close to Clark and took the glass out of his hand, his fingers sliding up over Clark’s. He tilted his head in toward Clark and said, “You really don’t have to yell like you’re being eviscerated because you’re thirsty.”

Clark grinned and nodded and breathed in heavily. Lex smirked at him. “And you’re not feeling a bit repentant, are you? You realize the young woman I was dancing with was *very* friendly? And had an equally friendly and lonely girlfriend?” He smiled at Clark and Clark just—ground his teeth together.

“Don’t worry Clark, maybe we can catch up with them.” He winked and danced away through the crowds again and Clark watched his ass as he went and counted to ten.

Lex brought back fresh drinks for them and led them back towards an area stuffed with little tables and chairs and stayed instead of heading back out to the floor. That made Clark feel a lot less like unhappy.

The music was beating against his eardrums, and the heat was becoming oppressive and he was about to ask Lex to take him home, when it happened.

They saw the boy at the same time. Clark glanced over and saw that Lex was staring hard at the kid. Kid—the guy was tall, and built, with dark hair and even in the weird light Clark could see he had green, green eyes. When he laughed, perfect white teeth were framed by red lips and Clark licked his own, sharp canines dragging across his tongue—the other boy’s teeth were Hollywood perfect, his cheeks each held a spot of color and he vibrated life and sun and Clark *knew*—he knew Lex was going to go after him, fuck him. No. Not this day.

The boy was looking back, smiling… Lex was shifting away from him.  
Now.

Clark quickly walked past Lex, who stopped moving as Clark did.

He walked up, introduced himself and the guy raised an eyebrow and smiled at him. Okay. He felt his heart thundering in his chest, sweat rolled down his back.

This was it. One way or another…if he had to break Lex into bits to get him to realize he was alive, he would. He didn’t care anymore. He really didn’t.

Lex watched Clark walk to the rear exit with the boy. He felt everything he’d drunk that night curdle in his stomach and try to rise.

Obviously somewhere along the line he’d stepped into an alternate universe. Clark was leaving with that boy—he was holding hands with that boy. He had a look on his face—terrified, determined…what the fuck? When had Clark-- what happened to Lana, what happened to girls…why was he just standing here?

Move. Move now, go get him, stop him, he was about to do something wrong, something he shouldn’t be doing with a stranger. He felt a flash of hatred for Clark that burned him for a moment before draining away in a wave of guilt and sadness.

Okay wait. You know what—it’s perfectly alright, whatever Clark wants—I refuse to make it my business any more…it’s just fine…just going to stand here and feel sorry for myself and drink until I don’t feel anythi--”  
Suddenly a sharp pain shot through the back of his head, he stumbled forward slightly and Emilio was yelling something at him.

Emilio…hit him? Emilio smacked him in the back of the head? He-- What the fuck? His muscles locked, fighting the urge to swing around and deck him. He breathed deeply and counted silently to himself, one, two, three, don’t kill him, don’t scream…He stared into what was left of his drink, at the growing wet spot on the front of his shirt where most of the contents of his glass had landed. I liked this shirt…

“Why?” he asked calmly.

Emilio snorted and shouted into his ear. “Don’t be stupider than you already are. Go get him, you idiot.”

“He’s… he’s a grown man, isn’t that what you keep telling me- he can make up his own fucking mind!”

“You made it up for him, you fool! He’s been sick for love of you all this time and you keep avoiding it.” He reached out and gave Lex a little shove. “I don’t know why you won’t see it and I’m as tired as Clark is, waiting for you to open your eyes. *If* you don’t go get him, he’s that boy’s tonight and trust me, he’ll never forgive you for it.”

Lex felt his whole world turn upside down. He could do it. He could change everything, Clark could be his, he could be happy, it could work… He looked at Emilio and finally just nodded and left. He couldn’t resist a glance over his shoulder; he caught a glimpse of Emilio standing on the dance floor, head down and a hand pressed over his eyes.

Clark grit his teeth and followed the guy—Paul out of the club and into a side street lined with a series of unlit archways. People laughed and moved in the shadows, but Clark didn’t look. He could still hear the music, still feel the vibration—his throat hurt. His hands were shaking. Paul smiled and asked him if he was cold.

“N-no…” his voice shook and he tried to grin.

“Don’t worry; I’m sure he’s going to be out in a minute. Your boyfriend,” he continued at Clark’s questioning look. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? I saw the way he was looking at me. You didn’t like that, did you? So now what, sport?” Paul smirked at him and hooked a finger in Clark’s collar.

“Oh! Oh-he’s not—I mean we’re not—he’s not my boyfriend,” Clark stuttered and blushed and tried to back up and suddenly rough stone was against his back, and the odd thought that it was still warm from the day slid through his mind. His hands fell backward and scrabbled at the stone. Oops—crap He quickly opened his fingers, wiped them against the wall and hoped that the guy didn’t notice the bits of stone hitting the street.

Paul grinned. “Oh, yeah? Even better.” He looked Clark up and down. “You don’t seem as sure as when you were inside, what, are you a tease? You’re not a tease, are you, Clark?” Paul slid his hand up Clark’s inseam until it rested over his crotch. Clark managed to keep from slamming his legs together, and maybe breaking the guy's hand and Paul tightened his grip. Clark felt a blush rise up like a wave of fire.

Clark stammered, “I’m not a tease, I’m—I’m… never…anything. Yet.” The guy’s hand was hot, and felt pretty good and he couldn’t help relaxing against his palm a little.

Paul eyes flared and he chuckled. “You’re kidding right? No fucking way….” He leaned in closer and licked the sweat on Clark’s neck and made him gasp. “Virgin,” he drew the word out, and the way he said it, made it sound vaguely unclean, made Clark cringe.

With one finger, Paul outlined the shape of Clark’s erection through the thin slacks Lex had bought him, wrapped as much of his hand as he could around it and slowly jacked him through the material. Clark closed his eyes and whimpered. His penis jerked and he could feel a warm spot under the guys thumb.

“Wait, wait, stop, okay? I don’t think—I don’t want my friend to see….”

“What—I thought he wasn’t anyone to you. Besides wouldn’t he have been here by now if he gave a shit?”

Clark made a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh. “He can be pretty stubborn…please, I think you should stop.”

Paul laughed and fumbled for Clark’s zipper. “Nah, I don’t think so. You just relax and let me handle it, okay? Just be quiet and relax.” He slid his mouth down the thin cotton shirt Clark wore and bit his nipple. Clark’s gasp of shock was muffled by the guy’s hand across his mouth and fingers slipped into the waistband of his pants at the same moment, touched the head of his penis and he jumped again, shook his head no. The guy laughed and leaned all his weight against Clark, his arm pressed into his chest and pinning him, hand pressing his lips hard against his teeth—if he’d been human, he would have been in trouble. Clark felt a wave of fury so deep it made him woozy—the hell with worrying about hurting this jerk—he was going to break his fucking arm.

He took a deep breath, and put his hands between them, his muscles bunched in preparation for knocking this guy off of him—and suddenly he wasn’t there anymore.

 

Paul let go—was pulled, he flew back against the wall opposite them and Lex was in front of him, and he looked angry—no, furious—no, psychotic. He yelled, “I’m gonna kill that son-of-a-bitch!”

Clark gaped.  


Lex had gone insane.  
Cool!

The son-of-a-bitch in question was scrabbling along the ground, trying to get to his feet and Clark quickly grabbed Lex into a bear hug and held him back so Paul could take off. It was obvious Lex had every intention of beating the guy into a paste and as much as he would have enjoyed it, Clark couldn’t let Lex do that.

Clark let Lex pull himself out of his grip. He gestured somewhat in his direction while pointedly looking away. “Get yourself together--you’re going home. Right now.”

The euphoria of being ‘rescued’ by Lex evaporated and Clark snapped at him, “Oh, so you just came to make sure I was still Smallville’s oldest living virgin? You know what? Fu--*fuck* you and your promise to my folks and–and-- *fuck* you for not paying attention when you pay attention to everything else and fuck you for—mmmph!”

Lex grabbed a thick fistful of hair and pulled him close, kissed him so hard he worried about teeth cutting into Lex’s lip, and stepped back as suddenly as he’d stepped into the kiss. Clark staggered forward a step or two into the Lex-less space.  
Wait! Come back! Kiss me some more!

 

Lex was red-faced and looked like he was about to explode, Clark shivered and asked, “You…you want me to go home? Home home? Or here home… how--where? What do you want?”

It took Lex a moment to pull himself together—he looked confused as he tried to process what Clark was babbling. “What?” He pulled shaky hands over his sweaty scalp. “Home-home? What are you talking about? No—no never mind.” He went on, as if he were talking to himself, “What do I want? I want—I don’t know. I don’t know what I want.”

“But- you want what I want, Lex! You want me, I want you!” Clark wondered if one good shake would jumpstart Lex’s brain, not enough to make his eyeballs rattle—just a little shake….

 

Lex threw his hands up in the air. “No you don’t, you just think you do, maybe you’re gay, maybe you just think you are because you have a crush and when you’re back home you’re going to realize it was just proximity and you’ll regret it.”

Clark looked at Lex and waves of anger swept him. “Do you really think anything you just said made any damn sense at all? How can you be so stupid? Do you *like* feeling sorry for yourself?”

“Clark—Clark—shit.” Lex pulled out his phone and spoke rapid Italian into it. Snapped it shut and grabbed Clark’s arm. “We’re going home now.”

Neither one of them spoke again until they were in the cab.

“Clark, that jerk,” Lex said kindly. “You know that you weren’t at fault right? That guy was a scumbag—and you can’t always tell who’s going to be all right and who’s going to be…well, not all right—trust me, I know…”

 

“All I want to know right now is how you feel about me—the truth. Is that so hard?”

"I love you Clark. I love you like--”

“If you say a brother, I’ll kill you. I swear. I don’t love you like a brother, Lex—I want you, I want whatever everyone else gets from you. I want to kiss you and touch you and feel you--”

“Clark! Stop! Just shut the fuck up!” Lex dropped his head back against the seat and Clark fought not to scream in frustration. He turned his head, took deep breaths and stared out the window.

“Okay. Shutting up. Sorry.”

Lex sighed.

That didn’t sound good. He watched Clark ice over and he couldn’t speak, he didn’t know what he could say to make this better.

He had well and truly fucked up.

Once in the apartment, Clark headed straight for his bedroom and Lex felt an echo of nights in France.

He looked at the closed door and chewed on his lip as he thought. Clark had been trying to tell him for a while how he felt-- he’d just ignored it. No, to be honest, he'd been trying not to see it. But here it was, like the polar bear you weren’t supposed to think of, lurking in the corners of his mind…Clark wanted him like he wanted Clark and what in the hell was *wrong* with him? Wasn’t that his dream, that one day Clark would look up and say, ‘hey, there you are, I’ve been waiting for you.’ Hadn’t he thought of it and thought of it until he was almost sick sometimes with wanting him?

But if he had him, if it was out in the open, what if he screwed up, what if he ruined what they had already? He’d rather watch Clark from a distance and ache with not ever having all of him, than lose what he had already.

Lex grimaced and his hands balled into fists at his side. No one had to tell him that sort of logic was insane and self-defeating. Dear me, what an enormous ass-hole you are. Love, me.

Clark’s bedroom door opened and he stood there, glaring at Lex. “Don’t think you’re off the hook. I have no idea what kind of stupid way you’re justifying your actions but we’re having this out in the morning--when maybe your brain is actually functioning.”

He slammed the door shut and Lex stood in the small hallway—and laughed. It bubbled up and squeaked out between fingers he’d clamped over his mouth.  
I feel like…Cary Grant, or Katherine Hepburn—I *am* going insane, I fucked it all up and now I’m laughing and *shit* this is so not good….

 

No, it really hadn’t been good. It was truly amazing how hard and how fast he’d messed up last night, Lex thought as he shut the water off and the pageant of his fuck-ups stopped with the shower.

He blew it; he screwed the pooch or the poodle or whatever the heck it was losers screwed. He’d crushed Clark, he’d ruined any chance he had with him, pissed Emilio off beyond compare and honestly, he wanted to punch the crap out of *himself*.

He twisted a towel around his waist and walked out to his bedroom. Maybe with any luck he’d slip and bash his brains out on the marble.

He flung the towel on the chair in the corner and turned towards his closet.

“Uh—hi, Lex.”

Lex spun about and yelped. “Clark! What are you--" okay we're naked in front of Clark and our towel's across the room. Perfect. Lex clasped his hands over his crotch.

“I wanted to talk but you were in the shower, and I got tired. So I laid down on your bed and I fell asleep again. And your bed is softer than mine and warm…”

Lex suppressed a wild urge to ask him if he’d eaten his porridge too, and suddenly the reality of the situation hit him. Clark.  
In his bed.

Clark’s hair was wild and listed to one side, his eyes were still sleep heavy and his mouth was a little swollen, a little crust was in one turned up corner of his sleepy grin and the sheets were tangled under his chin and he was completely beautiful.

Lex found himself drawn towards the bed like a moth to flame. Clark’s eyes were on him like a physical weight, and he could feel himself stirring behind his hands.

He yawned and stretched, and said, “Lex. I’m going to talk to you until you understand. There’s nothing temporary about this—I don’t want you to be “what I did on my summer vacation.” He sat up in the bed and the sheet slithered down to his hips and Lex could swear Clark had nothing on. “I love you, and I’m gonna keep saying it until you hear me, you stubborn bozo.” He moved and Lex could see that, right—he had nothing on. Clark. In his bed.  
Bare.  


“You can’t make me shut up until I’ve told you everything.” Clark raised an eyebrow in a look he copied from Lex, and looked as determined as possible, but his cheeks were red, and the blush went from his face down his neck…how far?

“Talk. Yes, talk, we have to talk…” Creak. Crack. The splintering of glaciers. The shifting of tectonic plates. The collapse of vast continents into the oceans. All pale imitations of the sound of Luthor resolve breaking, crumbling, disintegrating into nothing…he climbed on the bed and said, “I think I can. Make you shut up, I mean,” and kissed Clark. The right way.  
Oh.  
My  
God. Clark.  
Oh my god, Clark.

“Clark, don’t,” he groaned, when a tentative touch fluttered over his dick. He jerked when Clark huffed and wrapped his hand around him and said gravely, “Don’t say ‘don’t’ again. Say ‘more’.”

He stroked a little more confidently and Lex groaned into his mouth, against his neck and said “More. Oh. More.”

Clark shivered. He stroked a little more firmly, a little more confidently and Lex shook and groaned to show his appreciation. “Clark—Clark—oh god, oh yes, oh more…” He pushed himself into Clark’s fist and groaned and babbled. Told him how much he wanted it and how long he’d wanted it and the touch of his hand was like a dream….

Clark suddenly stopped. Lex moaned, “No, no—not yet,” and Clark shook his head, staring open mouthed at his hand curved about Lex’s dick. He made a startled sound and dropped back onto the bed, eyes shut tight as he cried out, and his body arched as he came. Lex looked down at him in awe. “God, Clark, I didn’t even touch you yet…” Clark jerked and moaned out his name, and spurted again.

He blushed a brilliant red and grabbed a bed pillow, crushed it over his face. “I’m such a—I’m sorry, it caught me by surprise!” his chest was heaving; Lex could hear him gasping even with the pillow nearly smothering him.

“No, no, Clark, seriously, that was amazing, so…hot!” Lex twitched--it was, it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, Clark was beautiful, unbelievable, and so sexy this way, naked and sweating and …he ran his fingers through the come on Clark’s belly, wet his dick with it, and reached for Clark’s hand. “Hold my hand, I want to do this together,” he gasped and Clark helped him, let Lex guide him; teach him how he liked it. Lex could barely control himself, Clark watched him so intently, so seriously, every sound he made brought a look of wonder to Clark’s face and it made Lex more and more aroused. When Lex tipped over into orgasm, it shook him like it hadn’t in years, he cried out when he came, spilling over Clark’s hand, his hand, and Clark whispered his name, holding his hand gently, this time when he came his eyes were open and he was looking into Lex’s.


	3. Chapter 3

19 _But It Got Better_  
Lex woke with a start--so hard and suddenly that his head pounded and he tried to sort out what the heck was going on. He swept an arm out along the bed…empty. He was alone, Clark was gone. He pinched the bridge of his nose and waiting for the pounding to subside--had it been a dream?

No, it was real, he’d slept with Clark—and afterward—Clark had curled around him, *slept* with him. And now the bed was empty.  
Good.

He didn’t feel comfortable sharing a bed anyway. After Helen, he much preferred to sleep alone. He rolled to his back and spread his arms out, clasped his hands behind his head and enjoyed the space. He wondered where Clark was. He was probably in his own bed sound asleep. Lex hoped that the boy wasn’t too embarrassed—he would just have to explain to him that it was perfectly all right, that everyone was curious and there was no need to be ashamed for acting on his curiosity. It was something they could easily put behind them and never mention again. If the word love had been mentioned that was perfectly understandable also, and fairly meaningless. The sex act could be confusing and make one say…regrettable things some times. Well, it was fortunate that he’d had a lot of experience with curious and regretful persons. He could handle this with a minimum of fuss and hurt feelings.

He smiled. Funny, but his biggest worry had always been that he’d lose Clark over something like this, it had paralyzed him, not letting him move forward, *or* speak his mind but he had to admit-- it was almost worth it. He was never, ever going to forget Clark’s face, how amazed he’d looked, how beautiful…

Lex shivered. It was a little cold…he pulled the covers up to his bare chest and snuggled back into the pillow. He was still tired, but having someone in the bed did that—it just wasn’t relaxing. Hope I’m not coming down with anything, he thought. I don’t want to disappoint Clark by not sightseeing with him—he rubbed his throat. It felt a little sore, and his chest felt tight in a way that called up unpleasant memories.

Lex pulled the covers even with his chin. Any moment now, he’d get up and talk to Clark, try to sooth his no doubt jangled nerves, poor kid. _Just let me close my eyes for a minute._

The next time Lex awoke, he was grasping at the wisps of a dream; it dissolved as he tried to recall it, leaving him terribly sad. It took a few seconds to realize he was awake thanks to an enormous commotion outside of his door.

 _Bang bang._ “Open up Lex!”

Lex got out of bed and pulled on a robe, belting it viciously as he went to open the door. Am I going to have to deal with resentment as well as regret, he thought angrily? Clark tumbled through, balancing a tray. He glanced at Lex’s robe with a fleeting look of disappointment.

“Oh, hey! I know it’s a little late for breakfast but I had a hard time figuring out the stove temperatures, but look--success! I got it finally!”

Clark babbled on happily, arranging the tray on the bed, completely unaware that Lex was looking at him nonplussed. He squeaked in pleased surprise when Lex threw his arms around him and kissed his cheek.

“Lex! Wow.” He smiled and kissed Lex back on the mouth and with enthusiasm. “I was kind of afraid you regretted getting involved with me this way.” He held up the tray, “That’s why I come with bribes. But I guess not, hunh?”

Lex grinned, and could feel his ears turning red. He ducked his head to hide the blush and asked Clark what he had.

“Fruit, and scrambled eggs and bread and jam…I kind of faked a breakfast.”

Lex settled on the bed, and took a slice of buttered bread and a wedge of orange. “This is very nice of you, Clark.”

“No it’s not,” he grinned around a mouthful of food. “I was starving, and you have to be too and we need to keep our strength up.”

Lex nodded, “Wise Clark, very wise.” He reached for the small pot on the tray and sniffed. Tea? Oh dear--coffee. Can you live on a farm and not know how to make coffee? He smiled. He’d teach him how. “We definitely need our strength, have a lot of walking to do today.”

Clarks face fell in a way that was almost comical. "But…but…no. No sightseeing,” he said firmly.

Lex raised an eyebrow, “No? But we have reservations for—and I planned--”

Clark moved the tray onto the bedside table and eased Lex onto his back. Lex tried to rise from the bed but Clark settled himself over him. “I thought we’d have breakfast in bed and then have…you know.”

“I do?” Lex grinned. He felt warm and relaxed, loose “…what? What do you want?”

“You know!” Clark laughed and turned bright red. “Sex,” he whispered.

“Okay.” Lex whispered back.

“Yeah?” Clark asked and his eyes shone. He smiled and smiled and through the robe and Clark’s boxers Lex felt him stiffening, shifting against him. He closed his eyes and lifted his hips a fraction and Clark gasped. “Lex!”

Lex kept his eyes closed and concentrated on the heat, the weight of Clark’s body, and the feeling until Clark coaxed him up off the bed, and slipped the robe off of him.

It made him even harder. He was naked, completely naked and open to Clark’s hot gaze. Clark swallowed and raised his eyes to Lex’s. “You’re beautiful.”

Lex shook his head no, but Clark wasn’t looking at his face, he was absorbed in watching his hand slide over Lex’s skin, tracing the line of muscle and the veins on his arms, his hands, following the faint, pale dusting of fine hairs that ran from his navel to his dick.

Clark blushed harder and spoke in a low husky voice, “I thought you’d be completely hairless—I like this…” and tugged gently on the sparse fine hairs.

Lex’s dick jumped and Clark made a small noise and trailed long fingers along the length, when it rose to his touch he sighed happily. He pulled his finger away from the head and a thick fluid drop clung to the tip. He lifted it to his mouth, his tongue extended to touch it and Lex whispered reverently, “Oh…fuck…” his gray eyes large and stunned.

Clark watched him as he stuck the finger in his mouth and sucked hard. Lex twitched, his dick rose and Clark leaned closer. “Do you want me to...?”

Lex gasped, “Clark, whatever you feel comfortable with.”

“Tell me! What do you want me to do?”

“I--oh god—suck me? I mean… oh god, suck me!” He groaned louder when Clark’s lips grazed him. Clark chuckled and lowered his head, took Lex’s dick into his hand and kissed the tip, slowly, carefully, not sure what to expect. He made a small sound of appreciation, and licked him like an ice cream cone. Lex shook and his hips rose from the bed, “Damn it!”

Clark stopped and jerked back. “What? What did I do wrong?”

“Honey, not you! No—I thought—I almost…”

Clark grinned. “You called me honey.”

Lex frowned. “You talk too much, Clark.”

“Then I need to keep my mouth busy.” Lex would have smirked at that but he was too busy moaning. He held Clark’s head and moved in short careful thrusts, not deep enough to hurt, and Clark made noises that made Lex want to come. Need to come. Clark sucked and licked him, and closed his hand around the shaft and jerked him while he sucked and he did it all so carefully with such and air of concentration that Lex gave up all pretense of being in control of himself and starting yelling.

Clark hissed and pulled away. “God! I’m going to come if you don’t stop and I don’t want to come yet--”

“Come Clark, please! I have to come!” Lex heard himself begging and pleading and was beyond caring—at this point he would have done anything for Clark, just so he’d continue—he was getting to the point where he’d do anything*to* Clark if he stopped.

Lex was begging and pleading and squeezing his shoulder and it was almost too much for Clark to understand. He was making Lex into this puddle of need, him, all by himself. The look on Lex’s face made his stomach clench, a warm wave rode his body and pooled in his groin, his chest felt too tight, but good—I love him. I know he loves me--Clark choked and dropped his head down, engulfed Lex’s dick and sucked it down—he swallowed once and Lex screamed. “Now, now--”

Clark held Lex down when he tried to pull away, he felt his dick pulse on his tongue and he swallowed fluid that jetted out into the back of his throat—all he could do is swallow and every time he did Lex screamed and yanked his hair and the parts of his mind that weren’t exploding along with Lex thought it was kind of cute.

The noise, the heat, the pure, concentrated sexiness--how could he hold out? His boxers were hot suddenly and then—they clung to his thighs wet and warm and all he could do was rest his head on Lex’s belly, moaning and gasping for air.

“You’re doing my laundry,” he moaned.

Lex gasped and groaned. “I have people to do that,” he panted. At Clark’s shocked look he laughed. “It’s okay, they’ve seen worse…not from me!” he protested at Clark’s suddenly more pointed look.

Clark crawled up on the bed and lay down next to Lex, who rolled towards him and wrapped a leg around Clark’s.

Clark sighed happily. “That was so cool…it didn’t taste bad either.” He blushed again and shoved his face under Lex’s arm. Lex patted his back.

“Don’t worry, Clark. I know what you mean. Shall we clean up some and then…”

Clark’s face lit up. “More sex? I like this sex thing. It’s great.”

Lex laughed. “I was thinking maybe we could actually eat breakfast or lunch or whatever it is by now.”

Clark grinned back. Lex looked amazing, even more relaxed since the first days of their trip. He was smiling with his whole face, eyes and mouth and his nose scrunched up a little… Clark felt like he finally knew what it was to be in love. It felt great.

20 _And It Was Good_

Their last night in Rome was bittersweet.

Emilio insisted they gather one last time at the apartment to make dinner together, which turned into a loud, messy and cheerful affair. Their movements around each other in the small space became a dance--balancing plates and pots and dodging elbows, Clark managed to bump into Lex many more times than the small space warranted. And of course each bump required a kiss in apology.

Emilio smiled, overjoyed for his friend, but just the tiniest bit melancholy. He knew he’d lost Lex forever this time. He was happy for him, very happy--he’d finally found what he wanted, and typically for Lex he’d had to suffer terribly before he allowed some grace into his life. Emilio sighed _Lex. Always trying to pay a price no one asked him to pay._

Clark was at his side, looping an arm around his shoulder and Emilio leaned into his warmth.

Clark squeezed him briefly and said, “I’m going to miss you so much. I think of you as my friend now too--I mean, if that’s okay?”

“Very okay,” he smiled back. “I come to America once or twice a year on business, and I always stop to visit Lex—I promise I’ll visit you when I do.”

Clark searched his face and then stepped back, smiling. “Thank you. Thank you for fixing that mess between me and Lex.”  
“For what? What did I do—he just needed a little… nudge.” Lex overheard him and glared at him. Emilio shrugged and grinned, handed Clark a dish, headed to the dining room. “Lex is stupid, we know this, but eventually he would have given in to you. Who could not?”

Lex was at the table, opening a bottle of wine. “What? Why must you continually speak ill of me? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you didn’t like me.” He weaved between Clark and Emilio, pushed a glass of sparkling water into Clark’s hand and pat Emilio gently on the cheek. “And *that* I know is not true.” He laughed a little at Emilio’s expression, and told Clark, “He loves me.”

He turned back to the table and Emilio watched him.

Just a few days with Clark and already he seemed…different. A little freer, a little less contained. And Clark…he seemed to fill the space around him with light. Every time Lex walked close to him, he looked so avid—his eyes concealed nothing, his face was an open book.

The mere fact that Lex hadn’t acted on their obvious mutual attraction before filled him with wonder—it had to have been so purposeful on Lex’s part, not to pursue Clark…he studied the floor tiles for a moment, gathering himself. He let out a deep breath and summoned up a sunny smile. “Children, children—it’s time to eat!”

21 _The Hills Are Alive With…Sound_

Marlene met them at the small airport, ushered them into the LuthorCorp jet with a wide and practiced smile. She handed Lex one of the lavender and silver envelopes and he took it with a nod. She was definitely going to be an asset to LexCorp.

He opened the envelope and spread out the sheets it contained. He glanced up, caught Clark frowning at her, and she responding to it with a cool professional smile. Lex mused that few would notice the tic under her left eye whenever she looked at Clark.

That took points from her, of course. He might have to reconsider hiring her away.

He looked at what he held in his hand and there in the sheaf of glossy pages was a picture of a singing woman and underneath, the words ‘Sound Of Mus--’

Clark snatched it from him with a crow of victory. “I knew it! I knew you’d see it my way! Thanks Lex!”

Clark looked at him with eyes so green and full of love that Lex rethought his assessment of Marlene, when Clark turned a huge grateful grin on her and she winked—an honest to goodness wink, not a tic—he decided on a salary that only an insane person would refuse.

Of course, he would have to deduct a bit for the looming horror of spending the day with some tottering, dusty old touristy wrecks from...from…New Jersey--or some equally horrible place no doubt. He’d be a lot angrier if Clark didn’t look like he was glowing…ah, and if he hadn’t taken a Valium or two…

Marlene left them at their hotel, and they were alone again. This time, it made Lex nervous.

They were alone but he could feel the difference, Clark radiated the difference.   
He reached out for Lex’s hand when they walked into the lobby, and Lex smiled gently at him before smoothing his hand away. He hoped that he could read the apology in his eyes. Lex moved quickly toward the concierge, trying to ignore the sensation of twin green lasers burning reproachfully into his back. He’d have to deal with that in a minute, right now, he needed to get out of the lobby and get horizontal, his head was pounding and his eyes burned. He needed to get some rest. He risked a quick glance at Clark. Sighed.   
Definitely just rest.

“Mr. Luthor! We’ve been expecting you, if you please…” The smartly uniformed man pointed out the elevator and assured them that their room was in order and waiting for them. Lex nodded. It was what he expected.

Clark marveled anew at the luxury that Lex took for granted. He was polite, unfailingly polite but always a bit distant to the people who waited on him. Clark wondered if he’d ever feel that way, as though the people around him weren’t real, that they were defined only by their roles in his life…he couldn’t imagine it. He'd also be willing to bet Lex didn’t really understand what Marlene had done, how startlingly nice that was. She’d arranged the tour without asking; just working from a few clues, knowing it would make him happy. But she’d also known making him happy would make Lex happy—and how did she figure that out? It was like she was a female Sherlock Homes… Lex really should hire her—maybe he should point it out to him?

Clark stepped out into the gloomy and darkly furnished hall in front of their room and waited until the door was opened and they were ushered into a big suite, surprisingly bright with sunlight.

“This is so nice!” He looked around him—what a beautiful room. He dug his camera out of his carryon bag and snapped picture after picture while Lex watched.

“Clark…most guys your age who are not interior decorators don’t take quite as many pictures of their hotel rooms…”

“Lex. These are for my Mom.” Clark turned a look of righteous indignation on Lex. He hadn’t forgotten being brushed off in the lobby. “She loves this kind of thing. I’m not just thinking of myself, you know.”

“Liar,” Lex muttered as he walked into the master bedroom and totally missed Clark paling a bit.

Oh yeah. That. He wasn’t talking about that, but still. That. Clark swallowed. What was he going to do about that? He raised the camera and snapped a few more pictures, the flash brightening everything momentarily. Maybe…maybe he needed to talk to his parents.

“Lex, I need to talk to Mom and Dad. About everything that’s happened.”

The box Lex was holding slipped through his hands, hitting the floor and emptying itself with a musical tinkle. Cufflinks and shirt studs rolled merrily around the floor dashing under tables and chairs… “Oh. Shit.” He took a deep breath. Well of course. Of course that was part of it. One had to speak to the parents. Of course. And Jonathan and he had such a warm relationship. It should be a snap…Dad. What the hell was Dad going to say—hold up, that’s not important. Dad didn’t run his life, not anymore.   
Crap. He was babbling—no he was *panicking.* He felt an old familiar squeeze deep at the base of his throat and forced himself to relax, take deep breaths….

He turned to Clark. “Your dad is going to kill *both* of us—though if we’re lucky he might stop after he kills me.”

“No, no, Lex! They’ll understand. I’m-- I’m pretty sure.” Clark didn’t look even half as confident as his words sounded. “I thought I’d tell them before we got home so that they can get used to the idea.”

Lex nodded. Wise. They had a few more weeks. It should give him time to arrange an escape plan…He shook his head. No. No defeatist thinking. Clark and he would handle this, like mature committed people. Committed. He shivered briefly.

“Clark…Clark…” Clark watched him, lips parted slightly, eager to hear whatever useful thing Lex had to say. “Clark.”

Clark nodded encouragingly, waited patiently. When Lex said nothing else he tried to prompt him. “Lex?”  
“Clar—ah. Um. You do what you think best. I’m sure everything will go smoothly.” If he could tackle his father, he could deal with the Kent’s. It wasn’t like they were his in-laws, after all. He looked over at Clark and his stomach sank a bit.

Clark was going to want to get married someday. He just knew it.

Jonathan was going to kill him, burn his corpse and salt the earth….

22 _Meanwhile, At Home_

Martha tried to turn the timer bell off, but it kept ringing and her muffins were burning while she tried everything she could to turn the damn timer off and black smoke poured out of the oven— she woke up.

The telephone was ringing. Her heart leapt into her throat—oh my God—Dad! Something was wrong—or Clark? She swung her legs over the side of the bed and glanced back, Jonathan was sound asleep. She reached over the nightstand and grabbed the phone. “Yes?” Her voice was thin and shaky. “Yes?”

“Mom? Mom, it’s me—Clark.”

“Clark, what’s the matter? Are you alright?” _oh my god—it’s twelve—what--_

“Mom, it’s okay—I mean there’s nothing wrong, we’re fine.”

“Thank God—Clark, do you know what time it is?” She got up and took her robe from its hook on the closet door, and shrugged it on as she made her way out of the room—she didn’t want to disturb Jon. She headed down to the kitchen; now that she knew everyone was fine she was just a little irked.

“Sweetie, you do know there’s a time difference, don’t you? Not that I’m not happy to hear your voice.” And she was, it was just—unsettling to get a call so late. She turned on the kitchen light, grabbed a dishcloth and wiped at the spotless counters.

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry—listen, first I want to tell you that I love you and Dad very much, really. And none of this has anything to do with you—I mean it’s not your fault—I mean…crap, it’s not coming out right…”

“Clark! What *is* it sweetheart?” _God—he’s in jail! He drunk—he’s high—_ a thousand scenarios flashed lightening quick through her mind and her heart was racing.

“I’m…I’m trying to tell you,” he whispered. He continued, his voice a little stronger and Martha unconsciously leaned forward as though to hear him better. “Mom. I have something to tell you, well you and Dad, but I thought I’d talk to you first and I didn’t want to put it off. It’s important, and—and…remember I love you.”

“Clark, I love you too, and nothing you tell me can change that—something *is*wrong. What is it son?”  
There was silence on the line, but she waited quietly. It might take him a bit, but he’d tell her. Clark always told them everything. Finally she heard a tiny sound, a click, a…a sniff? _Oh lord._

“Mom…I think…I think I’m gay. I’m pretty sure I am. Gay.”

She dropped into a chair and sat still for a long moment. At first her brain just skipped around the words, rearranging them, trying to make them make…sense. And then it hit her. Clark said he was gay. Homosexual. Gay? How? Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back. Clark didn’t need that; he needed her to be strong.

“Clark. Are you certain? You don’t sound sure.” She swallowed hard and waited for the words that would explain all of this.

“I *am* sure--about me. I’m just worried about you.”

Martha shook her head. “Clark! I told you. Nothing can change what we feel for you. But…are you really sure, what about Lana? I thought…Chloe…”

“Mom, I wanted that, I really did. I wanted to want Lana so bad; it took me forever to realize I didn’t want…all of her. I mean, I love her still. I just don’t *love* her.”

“Oh Clark. Oh Clark. I…I love you honey, I really do, but this…it’s not what I’d want for you, can you understand that?” She wrapped and unwrapped the robe’s tie around her fingers, looking around the kitchen and thinking briefly to herself that the conversation was unreal. For a long moment, there was only silence, so thick she could feel it and she almost cried then and in an icy voice Clark asked, “Are you sure this doesn’t change how you feel about us?”

“Hon, of *course* not. But you want me to tell you it doesn’t matter and...and I can’t…give me a little time sweetie. Let me get used to it.” Clark didn’t answer and she knew her impatient son was waiting.

“Clark, have you talked to Lex about this? I’m sure he knows gay people, he probably understands this better than we...” _Us?_ and her mind veered off the Highway of Thought, crashed into the Roadside Barrier of Ohmigawd, and plunged over the cliff of I’m Going To Kill Him Dead. “*Clark!* Lex! Did he…”

“*Mom*!”

The sound of Clark terminally embarrassed and angry broke through the gridlock in her mind. “I’m going to kill him—I swear to God, Clark--”

“Mom! See! This is why I wanted to talk to you first—can you imagine if I told Dad? He’d fly here under his own power. No—Lex has nothing to do with this—I knew it before I fell in love with him.”

Clunk.   
The phone hit the table and Martha noted idly it dented the pine slightly. _Oak—oak would have been sturdier…_ from a distance she heard a little voice yelling “Mom, mom” _...Oh my goodness—_ she grabbed the phone back up. “Clark! I’m here, I’m here!”

“Oh, oh good, I thought you hung up on me!”

“No,” _no—just recovering.”_ Hold on, I’m making coffee. She rose and puttered around the cabinets, putting together a pot of coffee and listened to the semi-panicked breathing in her ear.   
Relax, sweetheart. Relax.

She sat while the coffee brewed. "So. You’re …in love with Lex. Lex?” Lex was handsome, very handsome. And smart and funny. And well off. She could see that Clark might be attracted to him. _*Screech.*_ Sure, he was a catch. _*plunge*_  
“Clark…what about Lex? Does he know you’re in love with him? He’s…gay too? I mean, he was engaged and married and…women…”

“Mom, some people are bi-sexual and some people are--”

“Thank you sweetie. Thank you. I actually took a human sexuality course in college, I understand.” Amazing—she could feel him blush over the phone lines. Another power of his—and the Car of Sanity bounced off the Rocks of Ohmyfuckinggod and plunged further. She made a strangled noises and gasped out “Did--”

“No, of course--” he answered and she slumped back in her chair. “Oh good.”

“I meant to say of course not *yet*.” Icy, no, more than icy—totally frigid--tones crackled through the line. “I will tell him. But not until we’re all together. As a *family.*”

The emphasis on family was clear. Message received. _OH God._ Her work was cut out for her. Clark…her baby…

Martha blindly groped a cup out of the cabinet and splashed coffee into to it. She thought with intense longing of the bottle in the cabinet they laughingly called the bar, a few bottles of half decent California wine and a bottle of Southern Comfort. Would it be wrong to splash a little in her cup? Just a little? She sighed and sat down, took a gulp of coffee and said, “Please tell me all about it Clark. And I’ll want to talk to Lex too.”

“About what?” Clark squeaked. “I mean, talk to Lex? Hah—sure, sure. Now?”

Martha thought she heard something crash in the background but she was distracted by a sudden thought. She clutched her cup even harder.

“Clark. Is there something else you want to tell me? Anything?”  
“Ah…if I was a girl maybe we’d have a heart to heart chat and maybe cry and hug each other but I’m a guy so I’m just going to pretend that you didn’t ask that and you can pretend I answered you and that would be yes. Not anymore.” She heard a deep inhale and a loud exhale. “Yeah.”

Martha decoded the convoluted sentence and felt her throat tighten. Her baby wasn’t a baby anymore. Which meant he and Lex…and Lex…she had no idea how to tell Jon, but she was certain of one thing, she had to lay the groundwork for this one.

Clark held the phone and looked at Lex. Lex looked a little like a deer in the headlights. On the floor at his feet a vase lay in pieces, flowers and water all over the floor. _Gee, is that going to cost a lot?_ Clark wondered and waited for his mother to speak again.

She was taking it good, he thought. Not as bad as he was afraid, not as good as he’d hoped. She liked Lex. He knew she liked him a lot, and worried over him—it was Dad that was going to hit the roof he thought. He sighed. Right now, he needed to know his mom was on his side.

“Mom, don’t forget, I’m eighteen now. I’m not a little kid. I know what I want and no one talked me into this.” Lex’s mouth dropped open and for a moment he looked completely panicked, and then he pulled himself together. It was obvious it was an effort. He straightened his shirt and smoothed his sleeves. He went to the room phone and called the desk and Clark watched all the little moves he made, settling back into the unflappable Lex Luthor. He snickered silently. Yeah, right. Unflappable.   
Lex turned to him and smiled. “Let me have the phone, Clark.”

Clark held up his hand. “Mom, Lex wants to talk to you, is that okay?”

He held the phone out to him, his eyes full of sympathy. “Mom says yes.” Clark walked to the other side of the desk and sat and watched his boyfriend talk to his mother. Lex looked mildly concerned, a small smile turning up the corners of his moth as he listened. A single bead of sweat running down his temple revealed he wasn’t quite as cool and collected as he tried to appear.

“Mrs. Kent…how are you?”

“You can call me Martha, Lex” Clark heard with relief and with just the smallest twinge of guilt, continued to listen in to both sides of the conversation.

“Martha. I understand completely if you’re upset—it may seem...unbelievable, unimaginable—I mean sudden…well, clearly I’m not making a favorable impression at the moment.”

“Lex. When…when did you realize that--” She stopped. There was silence on the line and Lex was still, waiting for whatever she was about to say to him. Clark watched his face slowly shift from pleasant but determined to lost and…hurt. He started to rise from the chair but Lex waved him back. His mother spoke again. “When did you know you loved Clark? I know you do. It’s inconceivable that you don’t.”

Lex blushed deep red, his eyes shimmered and Clark once again had to restrain himself from leaping up and wrapping him in a hug.

“Yes I do love Clark and I’ve loved him since the day he saved my life and I’d never planned to tell him. Ever.”

Clark gasped and reached out for him and this time Lex let him take his hand.

“I see.”

“I would never. Never harm Clark. Or let harm come to him. I love him with all my heart, please believe me.” Lex looked away from Clark as he spoke, and Clark respected his need for that small bit of privacy, made no move to get closer or make Lex look at him. He felt his own chest squeeze tight…Lex really loved him, as much as he loved Lex. Or maybe more….

"I believe it Lex. I’m sure of it---we’ll talk about this later, okay? I—I need to think, I’m fine, I just need to think. Tell Clark I’ll call tomorrow, will you? Tell him I said good night and I love him.”

Clark heard the click of the phone disconnecting and stared at Lex.

“I think that went well, Clark. She didn’t threaten to kill me at any rate.”

“No, there is that.” Clark stood. “Can we go out? I need some fresh air. I need to walk around a little.”

Lex leaned close to him and Clark threw his arms around his neck. Lex fit right under his chin, fit like he was made to go there, and he rubbed his cheek over Lex’s smooth scalp. His skin was so soft, and he smelled so good. No matter what happened, no one could take that away. Lex belonged to him.

“You’re smelling me.”

“Yes. I am smelling you.”

“Oh. Okay. Ready to go?”  
“Yep. Always ready when you are.”

Lex looked at him, and a corner of his mouth turned up slowly and then, he laughed.

They walked along a street lined with shops. People filled the little road, tourists mostly, laughing and chatting, everyone seemed relaxed and friendly. The sky was slowly growing darker, shifting from a luminous lavender to a deep sapphire, and Clark kept glancing at Lex, watching the way the sky’s changing colors washed his skin with different tones and thought again how beautiful Lex was. He wanted to tell him, he wanted to stop each person and make them look, but contented himself with smiling at everyone instead. Love *did* make you do the whacky….

Clark boldly reached for Lex’s hand and to his surprise Lex let him take it. They walked on in silence for a while, Clark feeling his heart swell; he was perfectly happy and he never wanted this feeling to end.

The sky eased steadily into darkness as they walked from the center of the city to a footbridge spanning the river and Lex slowed to look at the lights reflecting off the water. Clark stopped and leaned his elbows on the rail and watched the wavelets shimmer with reflected streetlights. After a bit Clark said. “You know, when we get home we need to let our friends know.”

Lex sighed. “I sincerely hope you aren’t suggesting that we have a party and invite everyone over for tea and heart attacks, Clark.”

He huffed in irritation; he could tell by his tone that Lex thought he wasn’t thinking things through. “I’m serious Lex. I don’t want to pretend nothing happened. I don’t want to hide this, do you?”

Lex shook his head. “No, I don’t want to, but have you considered you’re being just a bit…impatient? Maybe we need to wait. A little, Clark, just a little.”

Clark bristled. “What—you want to make sure it’s going to last?” He folded his arms and tried to look reasonable and understanding. _Don’t frown, try and smile. Do that Lex thing with the lips and the eyes…._

“You know where we live, you know I work in a world that’s not especially tolerant of people like us, Clark.” Lex turned his back to the rail, leaned on his elbows and looked out at the opposite side of the river. A stray breeze made him shiver and Clark leaned against him, lending his heat. “Of course, being wealthy helps, having a reputation for being…sharp… helps too.”

Clark frowned a little. The thought of Lex as a cold aggressive businessman wasn’t especially attractive; Lex acting anything like Big Daddy Luthor wasn’t attractive.

“Being with me takes this out of the realm of high school romance. Do you understand? It won’t be football games and homecoming and making out under the bleachers. It’ll be you sitting at home and waiting for me to call, me trying to squeeze you into my schedule, seeing me with women…” At Clark’s horrified look he hurried on, “Just until we can introduce you to the public as my companion….”

“Lex, do you love me?”

“You know the answer to that.” Lex’s eyes went cold and he jerked himself upright and gestured to Clark to move on, but Clark stopped him. “Then let everyone know. I won’t hide behind you.”

Lex tried to pull his hand loose, tried to walk away, but Clark held tight. “Don’t do that. Don’t walk away from me. This thing—we either do this together, openly, or not at all.”  
Lex stared at the ground, striving for calm, trying to push down the anger that tried to boil over…being blackmailed tended to do that to him, even when the blackmailer was the person who’d become his reason for living. He took a deep breath _\--remember, Clark isn’t an opponent._ He was everything he’d ever wanted in life. He needed a distraction, a little time to calm them both… “Dessert, Clark?”

“You’re trying to change the subject Lex. I’m…well, I am kind of hungry, now that you mention it.” Lex smiled at Clark and led him over the bridge.

There was a café ahead of them, and the tables with their red and white striped clothes looked inviting. They were scattered about the edges of a little gravel-paved square, waiters flowed in and out between them, placing cups and dishes and whisking the empty ones efficiently away.

Candles on each of the tables floated little stars of flame, and somewhere soft music played. They sat on the wire chairs and waited to be served. When the waiter appeared silently at Lex’s elbow, he ordered coffee and an ice cream for Clark. The waiter smiled at him, asked him if he’d like whipped cream with it, and Clark blushed.

Lex lifted an eyebrow.

Clark stammered, “Just. Umm, looking—very pretty, this place.”

Lex nodded, a careful nod, a nod that said, ‘I’m going to ignore the fact you were staring at the waiter. And I won’t have him killed. Until after coffee.’

When their order came, Lex looped finger and thumb around the handle and wrapped his other hand around the cup and took a grateful sip of coffee. “Perfect,” he sighed, and stretched slightly, missing Clark’s eyes going round as saucers, and looked skyward. He set the cup down carefully, smoothed a hand over his head and took a deep breath. “All right. We tell everyone, your friends, my friends--”

“Especially your friends,” Clark broke in, punctuating his words with his spoon. Lex grinned and continued, “Your dad. My dad. And then we deal. Together.” He sipped at the cup of strong coffee, and watched Clark drop the spoon onto the table, splattering himself with melted ice cream.

“Your dad,” he spluttered.

“Ye-es…” Lex drew the word out. “You tell your family…I tell mine. And we’ll see who survives. Though I’m a lot more afraid of your dad then mine, since your dad has these great big rolling knives on a wheel he calls a mower and a very big chipper—not to mention loads of fields—good for burying things.”

“Lex!” Clark laughed. “Dad would never run you through the chipper!” He grinned evilly. “Though he does have that gelding knife.”

Lex blanched and Clark laughed harder. “I’m kidding! I ‘m kidding!”

“Yes, well, I’m sure that kind of humor goes over big at the hoe-downs.”

Clark grinned and swallowed. Lex, Lex, Lex… you’ve been in Smallville for four years now—I think you can drop the ‘I’m so baffled at your country antics’ thing.”

They walked back to the hotel, and all the way up in the elevator, Clark kissed Lex, and touched him, and in between kisses told him he loved him and Lex kissed him back and told him it made him happy to hear that.

In the room, they shared a bed, the down filled comforter was soft as clouds, and Clark appreciated its plump softness under his knees as he sucked Lex to orgasm and jerked himself off. He watched Lex’s face change as he came, and felt powerful to have that effect on him, loved it when he was limp and sweating under his hand. Sex was wonderful…it made him feel fantastic, that he could do this for Lex, bring him joy and satisfaction. He sighed happily and rubbed his face against Lex’s belly. Lex coaxed him up to lie next to him. “Clark, let me take care of you now.”

He looked puzzled. “Take care of me—oh! Oh no, I’m fine—I’m great,” he grinned at Lex. “Except, I think you’re out of tissues.”

Lex smiled and pulled his head against his chest. “How did I deserve you Clark?”  
“God—just lucky I guess.”

23 The Hills Are Alive With The Sound Of *Gertrude*

The next morning, Clark convinced Lex that he’d love to go on the tour with him by dint of not listening to Lex’s reasons why he didn’t want to go, why he shouldn’t go, and did Clark realize that he’d reduced him to shouting?

Clark nodded and waited for Lex to realize he had to give in. Lex couldn’t refuse him, it didn’t work that way.

And yes, Lex found himself on a bus, sitting next to a deeply satisfied and beaming Clark, camera clutched in one hand, brochure in the other. They were surrounded by people. Not just people, old people. Not just old people, but tourists from…Lex refused to let the thought enter his mind. He strove mightily to pretend he was still asleep. Words flowed over him, followed him, filled his head the whole day—he suffered. He suffered indignities that he would never have allowed if he hadn’t been rendered stupid by love….

 _“So, dear, tell us about yourself where are you from? Oh my, Kansas, hear that Gert, he’s from Kansas, do we know anyone from there? Are you married honey? Oh, the guy who’s pretending to be asleep is your boyfriend? Oh dear, well, he is a handsome one—cookie? Orange? Marge, where’s that picture of your granddaughter, oh we know hon, but just in case you should change your mind—now Sue, I know it’s not like changing your socks…oh is that the castle? You know, where they had the dinner? With the porcupines—what? Are you sure it was pinecones? Well, if you say so dear—and that handsome Captain. *You* know!—Christopher Plummer-- he could put his shoes under my bed any day…Oh heck yah he could. Sweetie, Rex is it? Do you want to wear this hat I bought my nephew, I’m worried about your pretty head getting burnt…Clark’s a fine looking young man, you lucky thing, Stand over here in the picture with us--Gert, get your hand off his ass! Ned—Ned honey--what? Oh—Rex! Lex? Come over here in the picture, Rex—for god’s sake Gert! Get your hand off his…Sue, can you put down that damn cigarette, we’re going in to the chapel…Thank you boys so much, we had a lovely day! Clark honey, Come see us if you’re ever in New Jersey—you too, Rex dear! Be good to each other...Gert, stop trying’ to take a picture of his ass, get one of the basket, honey, and switch that thing to panorama, aw, you know you were thinking it too….”_

Lex was breathless—it’s been a day in which he proved without a doubt, totally and completely he loved his man. Surrounded by the perviest old women he could ever imagine, (not that he’d ever want to) his person assaulted, his cheeks pinched to a flaming red—both sets—his taste impugned, (“is that get up the fashion here, honey? Do all the men wear sandals or just—you know--you boys?”) forced to wear a ridiculous little cap with--good god--with a feather in it…and all the while Clark had laughed and laughed and…just generally been irresistible, oh god. He had it so bad. It was as Gert, or was it Marge, had said. He would drink Clark’s bathwater and as puzzlingly disgusting an image that was, it was true. He wanted any and all of Clark. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Clark and if spending all afternoon in the presence of a gaggle of aged blue-hairs from the—the Garden state, they’d called it—didn’t prove to the boy just how much he cared, then nothing would.

Clark was waving enthusiastically at the old ladies, smiling like a man possessed.

“Lex, wasn’t that great? I got the best pictures, wasn’t it funny when Sue started singing ‘the hills are alive’…Marge was so funny in the gazebo—you know I think she knew every word of dialogue by heart--”

“I think so too Clark.” Lex sounded weary and Clark looked at him, his eyes full of concern and a little disappointment. Lex leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’ll never forget this day as long as I live Clark…because I spent it with you, and you were happy.”

Clark’s eyes softened and he smiled. “You do know how to say the nicest things.” He looped an arm through Lex’s. “You’re the best, Rex,” he grinned.

Lex smirked. “Let’s go back to the hotel, honey, and I’ll run you a bath.”

24 _Kisses Like Wine_

The next morning, Lex declared it was his turn to choose the activity of the day.

Through a process of pouts, raised eyebrows, frowns and looks of unmovable determination, possibly a mild temper tantrum, (though Lex would have suffered bamboo slivers under his nails before admitting to it) Lex discovered that what he wanted to do was tour the castle that dominated the view from the balcony of their room. As a compromise it was further decided that the Mirabell Garden might be a nice place to visit at lunchtime, and that the day should be topped off by a nice dinner. That was a decision that was fully supported by both parties in the negotiations.   
Marlene once again came through, tickets were available for any activity that they might have chosen, and that at least made Lex smile.   
Clark kissing him from the bedroom door to the lobby helped to soothe his ruffled feelings also.

They set off after a leisurely breakfast, their route taking them through a part of the city that Clark found as fascinating as their tour of the previous day. They had ice cream at a sidewalk café near Mozart’s birth-house in the Altstadt, went to the Dom Platz, the square in which the Salzburg Cathedral sat. After touring the cathedral, they took the cable railway to the top of the mountain, where the Festung Hohensalzburg sat overlooking the city.

The air felt clearer and brighter to Clark at the top, the sun high overhead was dazzling--- he threw his head back and closed his eyes, felt as if it were pouring directly into his pores and sparkling like champagne throughout his body. He couldn’t help smiling at everyone. He was like a giant pied piper of cheer; no one he passed could help smiling back at him, and each time a person smiled back or wished him a good day, Clark could feel Lex bristle—and that kind of made him feel good, too.

They went in and out of every part of the fortress they could, and Lex pointed out how it was practically a city in itself and it seemed to Clark that a place like the fortress, in a different time, would have been Lex’s natural habitat.

Inside the castle, the rooms smelled of wood and stone and dust and age—what Clark was beginning to think of as the smell of history. There was wonderful art, painted and gilded walls, some of it quite beautiful, and Lex seemed to glow as he described how the old Austrians lived, how they supplied the castle and especially enjoyed explaining at length how they defended it. By the end of the tour, with what he’d learned about castle defense, Clark was pretty sure he’d be able to hold off an enemy incursion with a sharp pointed stick…and about a hundred or so Lex’s….

He leaned over the castle wall and looked down into the city below--he felt like he should memorize the view, or rather how it affected him, so he could feel it for a lifetime—the way the sun seemed to intensify the beauty of everything a person could see, the buildings and the age tarnished copper roofs, the beauty of the domed towers of the cathedral, the flowers that seemed to bloom everywhere, even the colorful crowds of visitors. He was happy to be here, he loved being here with Lex—it was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

He loved it here, he really did. It was wonderful to be alone with Lex, to have every bit of his attention. It was like being under the sun constantly, it was everything he wanted and needed. But-- he *was* beginning to miss his parents, and his boring life. He was starting to miss greasy cheeseburgers and crappy TV and his bedroom, he was even missing the dorky cowboy border they’d never gotten around to taking down. He missed Pete and Chloe and Lana…he sighed a bit.

“Hmm? Tired?” Lex asked and pushed his sunglasses up to look closer at Clark. Clark’s breath caught for a moment— in the bright sunlight Lex’s slate gray eyes looked so clear and blue and deep that he didn’t want to look away. He wasn’t sure if he *could* look away.

Lex leaned in closer, his forehead creased with concern. He asked him again, “Are you okay, Clark—oh.” Understanding softened his features, and he smiled. “Feeling a little homesick, hunh?”

Clark nodded. “How did you know?”

“I’m not surprised, spending all day with those…ah…lovely ladies yesterday was bound to make you think of home. Listen, the minute you’re not having fun anymore, tell me and we’ll go home. Just let me know, and I’ll arrange it.” Lex squeezed his shoulder.

“Will you do anything I want?” Clark asked and Lex smiled and stroked a hand down his arm. It wasn’t a particularly intimate touch, but it made Clark go hard a little. He shoved his hand into his pocket and tried to unobtrusively shift himself. He felt his cheeks go red.

“Yes, Clark. Anything you want.”

 _God…_ Clark stuck his hand in his pocket again and thought about math tests and nuns and Dan Rather and that seemed to help…calm things down.

They were walking down the road that led back to the city, and Lex led them into a small side road that ran along a steep hill above a row of homes. On one side they could look over a stone wall, out over the roofs of the buildings, on the other side the road ended against a wall of raw rock. The sun was lower, and not so bright now, the road was dotted with patches of gloom where buildings blocked the light and vines over grew it. They walked along the road slowly, enjoying the view, enjoying being close. The road narrowed the lower they went, and the wall was replaced with the rear of buildings--so close now Clark could spread his arms and nearly touch them and the rock wall on the opposite side.

Clark was strolling along; content to hold Lex’s hand, and think about the future when suddenly Lex pushed him back roughly against the wall.

“Shut up,” he said when Clark opened his mouth. He obeyed instantly, pressed his lips together tightly, his eyes went wide and Lex’s eyes narrowed. Clark could feel his heart beat in his throat. Lex shoved a knee between his and pushed them apart and Clark responded, a tingle running down his spine as he fanned out his knees and Lex slid a hand under the loose leg of his shorts and up the inside of his thigh. Clark gasped and Lex growled softly. Clark’s hips lifted from the wall, he pushed against Lex’s hand, the one pressing him against the wall. Lex’s fingers brushed feather light against his balls, ran over the crease of his leg and he spread his knees wider, whimpered. “Please,” he breathed. Lex looked so serious, his eyes on his as if looking for some signal, a sign of something Clark couldn’t imagine…his head rolled from side to side against the rough wall as Lex slid his hand higher, his fingertips grazing the tip of Clark’s stiffening dick. It jerked under his touch, and a drop of pre-come rolled over the tips of Lex's fingers—they were slicker and warmer when they stroked around the ridge and up over the head of his dick again.  
“Clark.” Lex whispered the word against his skin and Clark wanted him to do that over and over, hum against his neck, sing, bite, suck on that spot. He heard Lex speak from miles away. “Mmm, you smell, like sun, and hay, and…you smell like Kansas,” and Clark laughed breathily. What a funny idea—how did you smell like a state?

“I do?—nnnh!” Lex was driving him crazy, though the shorts kept him from doing more than squeezing and petting, it didn’t matter, he was breathing harder and harder and he felt the wet dripping down his leg and Lex needed to stop—now! “Don’t—don’t-- please!”

Lex ignored him, and pulling the zipper down, opened Clark's shorts. He turned him to face the wall, and Clark’s hands shot out to hold himself up.

Lex leaned against him. When his erection brushed Clark, he ground back against him, trying to get as close to Lex as he could. It felt good, better maybe than it should but right now he didn’t care, it was hot and made him hotter, and he wanted Lex in his mouth but he couldn’t move--Clark groaned and begged Lex not to touch him…and Lex did what he wanted to do—touched him, stroked him, and Clark shuddered. “I—I don’t want to …”

“What, Clark, you don’t want to what?”

Clark felt himself swell even more in Lex’s hand, pulse after pulse of pleasure shot through his groin, he groaned wildly—“I don’t want to come without you! Please!” and suddenly he felt like he was being filled with liquid fire, fire that needed to explode out of him—the more he tried to force the feeling away, the more desperate his need to release it --he came hard against the wall, his hands sliding over the gritty surface, and his feet digging in the gravel as he tried to keep from slipping to his knees. He could feel the hot length of Lex pressed against his back from shoulder to ass, he was panting, and then moving back as Clark pull himself together.

Lex was licking his hand clean and it made Clark hiss, the little shiver that went through him at the sight was almost painful—he watched him, lost in it before he shook himself and remembered what he was supposed to do—take care of Lex. Clark pulled the hem of his t-shirt up. “Wipe,” he said, mock frowning at him.

“Yes, sir,” Lex smiled. He wiped his hand and grabbed Clark’s arms when he tried to drop to his knees. “No, no, Clark, it’s fine, I’m fine.”

Clark frowned and cupped the bulge in Lex’s trousers. “No you’re not. Let me take care of you. I’m not supposed to come without you coming.”

“Says who? That was about making you feel good…you did feel good?”

“Yes, but…” he pouted. “I’m supposed to make *you* come.”

“Clark, you don’t—it’s not like it’s your *job* to make me come. It’s mutual, what we do for each other….” Lex stopped. No, it wasn’t. Every time they had sex Clark was the one who---Clark blew him, Clark jerked off, they fell asleep. That was pretty much what they did. It was pretty nearly all they did until today. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was he holding back--why? And Clark—Clark thought this was good and this was great and it was all he was supposed to have? Fuck. Lex felt like smacking himself. He took Clark’s arm. “Come on; let’s go back to the room. We need to change, and get something to eat. You hungry?"

"Of course I am!" Clark laughed, and Lex begged whatever gods might be listening to help him keep Clark— _I know you’ve been trying to drive me insane, but please, don’t give me the boy and then make *me* chase him away by being an—an idiot. You want sacrifices, tell me what you want and I’ll do it._ He stared at his beautiful golden boy, and sent up another silent prayer. _And if it would at all involve the painful and protracted demise of my father...so much the better…_

25 _These Foolish Things…._

They went back to the hotel room, and Clark wanted a shower before dressing.

“Go ahead,” Lex told him. “I’ll lay your clothes out while you do that. There’s a really fine restaurant I want to take you to tonight—I promise you’ll love it.”

Clark rolled his eyes and grinned and went off to take his shower and Lex took his tux out of the closet and brushed it, lay out underclothing and socks, and generally played valet for Clark.

 

After a while, he realized he’d been hearing the sound of the shower for far longer than usual, and he began to be just a little worried—maybe he should check on Clark.

He tapped on the door and let himself into the bathroom. “Clark,” he called softly, “are you okay?”

He looked to the shower stall and barely managed not to yelp out loud. Clark rolled his head towards him, his shoulders were resting against the rear shower wall, and he was facing the door. His knees were spread, the way Lex had spread them earlier in the alley, and his hand slid up and down over his erection. Lex froze at the sight.

Clark’s head dropped a little and he stared at Lex from under his brows. His lips parted and his pink tongue chased around his mouth, slipped back and he held it between his teeth, and he arched slightly. Lex took a step forward, his own dick rapidly filling, his breath hitched in his throat at the sight of Clark looking completely like sex—hot and nasty, his hand caging his dick, Lex watched the head disappear and re-appear in his fist, and Clark said, “Lex.”

Lex groaned, his dick jerked hard and he stumbled forward another step.

“Lex.” Clark spread his knees farther apart and moved his free hand between his legs, cupped and massaged his balls and groaning, slid his hand back, back until Lex knew he was touching his hole.

He took another step closer and he could feel his heart thunder, his dick surge upwards, his breath rush in and out…”Clark, what are you doing?”

“Waiting for you to come closer,” he groaned. He sank to his knees and both hands were on his dick now, both hands squeezing and pumping and Lex kicked his shoes across the floor, ripped open his trousers, stepped out of them as he came closer, tore off his shirt and threw it to the tiles.

Sweat rolled down his scalp, between his shoulders, down his ass—he stepped to the lip of the shower, and took his dick in his hand. He reached out with the other and cupped Clark’s head, twined his fingers into the streaming wet curls and pulled him gently to him. “Clark,” he gasped. “Suck me please.”

Clark moaned, opened his mouth and let Lex push in; he did it slowly, thrusting gently and shallowly as Clark tried to keep all of him inside. His tongue brushed his dick over and over, he felt it when Clark hollowed his cheeks and sucked, he felt the head of his dick rub against the roof of his mouth and it made him moan and push a little harder, he could feel Clark licking pre-come greedily, it made him jerk and groan. Clark’s hands slid over his hips and grasped his ass, wet slippery fingers slid into the cleft and it made his muscles clench. “God!”

Clark pulled back. "Do you like that, I like that, let me show you--” he slid his fingers with purpose into the cleft and rubbed them up and down, closer and closer to the opening there and Lex trembled. Clark never stopped, fingers slipping over his hole, the other pumped his dick, and his mouth—his mouth was making Lex insane, he only knew he wanted more, more of this, more of Clark. His hands tightened in the wet mass of hair, pulling Clark over his dick, harder, faster.

Clark sucked him in as deep as he could and Lex felt an electric ripple surge through him, flooding his groin with heat and making his dick pulse hot in Clark’s mouth. “Come, come with me Clark,” He groaned and Clark swallowed, his dick slid into his throat, he swallowed again and at the moment Clark came, he was pouring hot fluid down his throat as Clark pumped pulse after pulse of thick warm fluid over Lex’s knees, over his own belly and hands.

Lex shuddered and groaned and couldn’t let go of Clark’s head as Clark sucked and licked and kissed his belly and thighs, then rose slowly and coaxed Lex into the shower with him, and soaped him carefully and thoroughly clean, then did the same for himself.

He took Lex by the hand and pulled him into the bedroom, and Lex let himself be guided as if he were in a dream, and then his brain began to sputter back into lucidity… _He loves you idiot…he’s told you over and over and all you’ve given him is some half-hearted vaguely worded blather and you know you love him like crazy…What are you waiting for, hmm? What do you want asshole—you want him to cut off an arm to prove he loves you? When are you going to tell him? What are you waiting for…tell him…._

“Clark, your welfare is the most important thing to me—you do know that right?”

Clark looked faintly puzzled and a little amused. He dropped and spread himself out over Lex’s bed. “I know that,” he answered.

“And I’d never hurt you.”

Clark looked slightly more amused and propped himself on one elbow in the bed and watched Lex pace. Lex walked from the bed to the door and back again. “You know how deeply I’m concerned about you.”

Clark nodded, and looked very serious, but his eyes were sparkling. “Umm-hmm.”

Lex stopped and stood with his hands on his hips, tapping a foot and frowning. Why did he have to say it—Clark knew. Why did he have to try and find the words to explain?

Clark smiled. “You look cute when you’re naked and thinking.”

Lex huffed in annoyance. “Clark I’m trying to be serious.”

Clark tried not to laugh and nodded, his serious look completely ruined by the occasional faint snort.

Lex tried again. “You do know what I’m saying to you.”

Clark nodded. Yes, he did.

“Then we’re fine here, right?” Lex looked down at Clark. Logic demanded the boy know what he meant and understand that it made him feel more naked than just the lack of clothing to say the word—words....

Clark shook his head. No. Not quite.

“You want to hear me say it.”

Clark smiled.

“Oh fine, shit, I love you—happy?” Lex stopped in mid stride. _Fuck me--_ he dropped to his knees at the side of the bed and took Clark's face in his hands. He looked into his eyes, cloudy with hurt….

“Clark, I love you. I love you like—like air—like water—like everything I need to survive, okay? I’ve been waiting for you to tell me the experiment is over--- it has to end, because nothing I’ve ever wanted has ever turned out good for me.” Lex felt like he was being stabbed and the knife was twisting in his ribs. “I’ve been trying to keep some space to save myself.”

Clark looked horrified—he grabbed Lex’s arms and shook him—it hurt, his hands were hard as vises and they ground down on him hard enough to make him gasp, but Clark ignored the sound.  
“Don’t do this to yourself—stop sacrificing your happiness, will you? If I tell you I love you and I want you, only you—then damn it, that’s what I mean. Stop crying!”

 _Well that was an odd thing to say,_ Lex thought, and then realized that Clark meant him, and that tears were running from his eyes. _Shit._ He snarled a little at his lack of control, but Clark wiped his cheeks before he could.

“Don’t do that. Please don’t freeze me out.”

Lex sighed and nodded. He pushed him back a little and said, “Clark, I don’t think this can ever end. We’re connected until the end of time now.” _As long as you want it, I’m yours._

Clark laughed, and hugged him, and for a little while they just sat and held each other, Lex felt like melting into the furnace of Clark, he wanted to soak into his pores and know that nothing could pull them apart—but being a Luthor was all about making the most of what came your way—and he was going to make the most of this miracle. He pulled the shredding remnants of his self-control and dignity together and forced himself to let go of Clark. “Get dressed, we’re going on a date.”

“What?”

“We’re going on an official date, with date sort of activity and we will do date-like stuff, and it will be nice, and afterwards, we’ll pretend we’ve never been intimate before…” _which is almost sort of true._ Lex blushed and felt guilty. He hadn’t really shared anything with Clark--yet. .

“Cool! And kind of kinky! Should I pretend I don’t know your name?” Clark grinned and leaped up to dress, and Lex felt a little guiltier and swore to himself he was going to make sure that Clark was happy from this point onward, even if it killed him. Or killed them both—Luthors never did things by half.

26 _Our Love Is Here To Stay_

“Clark. You look good. Trust me. If you don’t stop yanking on those cuffs, you’re going to rip your sleeves off…”

“It’s not that—it feels like I’m wearing a straitjacket.” But he smiled, and smoothed the jacket of his tux. He guessed he looked okay, Lex said he did, but Lex—Lex looked like walking sex. His tux fit him like a glove, a very lucky glove—and as they made their way through the restaurant, heads turned to watch him walk past.

Lex followed the host to their reserved table, and Clark followed Lex’s hips in a pleasant daze.

They were shown to a curtained booth, and when the host pulled back the heavy drape, Clark made a little sound of pleasure. It looked like a fairy tale come to life, snug and intimate. They sat on deep benches, upholstered in warm floral tapestry and the space was made even cozier by the golden glow of small wall sconces reflecting off the aged wooden walls. They faced each other over snow white linen and Lex smiled—Clark couldn’t help smiling back, Lex looked so pleased with himself.

“Wow, this really is nice, Lex! Thank you for bringing me here—and you know, I could be taking pictures of it too…if someone hadn’t rushed me and made me leave the camera at home,” he pretended to grouse.

Lex tutted softly as he looked over the wine list and smirked slightly. “That’s just terrible,” he murmured and Clark gave him an icy glare.

“Well, Mom expects pictures, I did promise her.”

“But don’t you think the one million pictures you took of Fraulein Maria’s stomping grounds will appease her apparently insatiable desire for photos?”

“You really shouldn’t tease the one you love like that.”

“You’re right—I shouldn’t.” Clark smiled at him. He knew he would anyway. He was counting on it.

 

Their orders were taken, and they chatted together, stopping every once in a while to just…look at one another.

Clark felt filled with light. This was it, everything he’d ever wanted, right here, across from him. There was no way it could get better than this. Right at this moment, he was so damn happy that he wasn’t even worried about his dad’s reaction when he got home.

Much.

Nope, not worried at all—it wasn’t like Dad would kill him, or Lex…Clark grabbed his water goblet and finished it in one gulp.

Lex stopped in the middle of a story he was telling about one summer in Hawaii with a former roommate of his, and asked Clark if he was okay.

“Oh, yeah, ‘m just fine…so you and Bob went skinny dipping…” Clark smiled weakly.

“Skinny dipping? I said we went skin-diving and his name was Bru—Clark. What’s on your mind? You’re completely distracted. Either that or my story is completely boring.” He smiled ruefully.

“Oh, you’re never boring Lex! Never!” Clark quickly assured him, and Lex chuckled.

“All right, I’m more than willing to believe you.”

A quiet knock came from the archway of the curtained alcove.

“Come,” Lex called and the waiter whisked the curtains back and their meals were served, beautifully prepared and presented in a way that was lost on Clark—it was way past their usual dinnertime, and he was hungry.

Lex thanked the waiter, waited until their privacy was restored, then leaned over and kissed Clark. “Let’s eat, hmm?”

Clark unfolded his napkin into his lap and sniffed appreciatively. “This is fun, it’s like eating in a tent—a really fancy tent…”

“Yes, of course, exactly like a tent.” Lex snorted. “All we need are franks and beans to make the illusion flawless.”

Clark laughed, “Shut up, you are such a *snob*!”

Lex looked shocked, as he spooned a bit of gravy over Clark’s schnitzel. Don’t be ridiculous, I eat—well, I drink-- at the Talon don’t I?”

“ Oh, of course, you mingle with the common folk—how did I forget that? Besides, you’re a part owner of the Talon. And why is my schnitzel naked? Where’s the breading?”

“This is better, it’s a natur schnitzel--the flavor is more delicate, you’ll like it. Believe me.”

Clark pouted, but took a bite anyway, and glared at Lex. No way was he going to admit it was delicious. Know-it-all.

Lex grinned and took the opportunity to explain the origin of each dish they ate—explaining how Austrian food was an amalgam of many influences from different countries as Clark nodded and inhaled his dinner and tried to remember to look properly impressed by each nugget of information. He was licking his lips and squashing his napkin in his hands while Lex was still picking apart his dinner. Clark shook his head—he was becoming used to what Lex considered a meal, but he still couldn’t believe that anyone could live on the bird-like amounts Lex nibbled down. He managed to wait patiently until Lex had the plates removed and requested coffee—and dessert.

Clark beamed. “What did you order,” he asked. “Pie? Chocolate cake?”  
“Strawberry tart,” Lex smiled.

“What? But—it’s so—so little…tarts are just tiny little pie teases—they’re made for hobbits…did you order like—three or five?” he asked hopefully.

“You’re going to love it,” Lex insisted. Trust me.”

Clark was completely convinced of how wonderful a choice it was when Lex fed him the miniature strawberries that topped the creamy tarts—he was beyond convinced when Lex leaned close to him, kissed him and passed him the tart fruit on his tongue. Clark sucked both with enormous pleasure. The tiny fruit were delicious bursts of strawberry, concentrated and intense, each no bigger than the tip of Lex’s fingers. Those fingers were becoming pink with the juice and tasted as sweet as the berries to Clark. He held Lex’s hand in his, darted his tongue out to touch, and all the while he kept his eyes locked on Lex, glowing in the soft amber light. Clark gently sucked on each finger and Lex’s lips parted on a sigh and Clark thought he’d never seen him so beautiful, never felt so close to him.

There was no *way* it could get better than this.

Until that evening--Clark groaned and arched back against the sheets; he was finding that yes, it could get better—worlds and worlds better—unbelievably better--

 

Back again at the hotel, relaxed and pleasantly stuffed, Clark had taken his miraculously un-besmirched tux off, and was feeling pretty good about keeping himself food-free, when Lex came up behind him. The first thing he noticed was that he was naked—that was a good thing.

The second thing he noticed were Lex’s fingers, sliding under his tee shirt. After that was a long list of things noticed, his fingers tweaking his nipples, Lex’s tongue in his ear, his teeth gliding along his neck, his fingers slipping under the waistband of his boxers, his leg sliding in between his, his—oh! God! His erection grinding into his hip, sliding until he was grinding against his ass…Clark was breathing hard, and getting harder, Lex’s fingers were warm and smart and making him feel dizzy. Lex slid the boxers down his legs, and just the material rubbing against his skin was enough to make his dick jump. He ran his hands slowly up and down his thighs, plucking gently at the hair leading to his groin, teasing Clark unmercifully.

“You’re evil!” Clark gasped when Lex’s hands slid over his dick and cupped him, “you’re evil!” he groaned when he squeezed his balls and made him quiver—“Evil!” he panted when Lex pressed his thumb against the slit and made pre-come drool over his hand…Clark was beside himself. Lex had never really touched him like this before--he’d touched him, but not like he wanted to tease and taste every inch of him, like he wanted to make even his skin come.

He turned in Lex’s arms and tried to sink to his knees. He wanted to have sex, and wanted it now. Lex stopped him, and backed him up carefully until he bumped against the bed and sank down into the thick down comforter thrown across it. Lex crawled up over him and settled his weight on Clark’s thighs.

Clark groaned and sighed. It was like lying in a cloud with an angel. An angel with a hard-on…and that just made it better….

Clark panted, Lex licked his chest, Clark gasped, Lex sucked tiny little purple blooms down his breastbone and up again, Clark squeaked, Lex took each rosy nipple in his mouth and sucked until it was hard and dark, and then nipped gently until Clark was moaning out loud and trying to lift his hips. Lex grinned. “Like that?”

Clark said, “Yooaagh…”

“Mmm, thought so.” He bent his head back to his task and Clark yelped happily with each nip downwards. He opened his eyes when he heard Lex make a little sound of confusion, damn, he was looking at his totally unmarked chest—time to distract him—but Lex had similar ideas for different reasons, he slid down Clark’s legs, Clark groaned again at the feel of Lex’s hot heavy dick painting a wet trail down his leg as he moved.

Clark shuddered—he had to have him in his mouth now—and then Lex’s equally hot tongue was weaving circles on his belly, twisting around his navel and flitting in and out, his mouth was pressed against it and he was …fucking his navel, and Clark jerked and glistening strings dripped from his dick to his belly…he was going to come if Lex didn’t stop. Right. Now.

“Hush, Clark…enjoy it.” Lex whispered against his burning skin. “Relax and enjoy it as much as I am.”

“But—it’s not right—oh! Oh! Oh!”

Lex’s mouth pushed down, down on his dick and slid upward, sucking hard as he could as he rose back up.

Clark nearly lifted off the bed, he arched and yelled, and his dick pulsed, and he thought he might come from that but somehow, he held out. He needed to have Lex come with him. “No. Lex, let me do it please, let me!” he tried to wrap one hand around his dick, and he plucked weakly at Lex with the other.

“ Hush,” Lex said and easily fended Clark off, slid flat against the bed and wormed Clark’s legs over his shoulder and sucked him once, twice, let his dick pop out of his mouth and worked his mouth over his balls.

“Fuck!”

Lex hummed against the tender flesh, sucked it into his mouth and tongued swirls against the skin before pulling gently free and tonguing lower, lower until Clark was quivering and moaning non-stop and Lex was kissing and sucking the sensitive skin around his hole, smaller and smaller circles until he was tonguing the quivering muscle itself and Clark was discovering new meaning to the word ecstasy.

A rolling wave of heat and electricity ran through him, wave after wave, all centered on the tongue pushing into him, the wet heat, a weird and electrifying combination of hard and soft, slipping in and out of him—and then Lex added a finger to the mix, and the finger felt even better, and two fingers felt better than that and three fingers pushing in made him scream, touched something inside that made little stars explode in his spine. Clever tongue and fingers and the smooth hot hand on his dick suddenly made the world, usually so confusing, so very, very simple—he had to share his new found enlightenment with Lex—

“FUCK ME!” Simple really-- everything reduced to two simple words…Lex was a genius.  
Lex was so involved with what he was doing that he jumped and yelped when Clark screamed ‘fuck me’ at the top of his lungs and hurried to comply. “Yes, yes, just let me get supplies…”

“Supplies? We’re not going camping—fuck me now!” Clark growled, red from his head to his toes, flushed and wet and hard, so hard…Lex touched his dick, and it twitched and drooled, and Lex licked his lips. He looked up at Clark’s face and he felt a spike of lust like a punch in the gut—Clark looked desperate, frantic, like he needed it now or he’d die. “Really, we don’t need anything, really—please!”

Lex pressed his fingers against Clark’s mouth and shook his head. He reached out for the side table and got his supplies. A condom--he’d never put one on faster in his life, and so much lube it was ridiculous, but it was Clark’s fault for grabbing himself and groaning like…like an animal, a very sexy animal, when he was trying to get the cap off the tube….

Clark protested slightly when Lex coaxed him to his belly, “Trust me, it’ll be easier this way—I promise you’ll like it.”

He was shivering at this point and looking at Lex like he held his soul in his hand, and he pulled his hips up and stroked some of the overabundance of lube on Clark’s dick, loving the way it flexed in his hand.

Clark moaned and pushed into Lex’s fist, again and again and begged Lex for more, Lex pushed his fingers inside him, evenly stroking in and out until Clark was babbling and relaxed and begging— begging for him--it turned him on beyond belief to have this gorgeous Adonis pleading for him…the first push in made Clark yell into his pillow and Lex had to stop, bit his lip hard.

The heat, the first resistance and then a slow easing into the hot tight clasp, the way Clark shook and moaned his name and begged Lex to fuck him harder…Lex panted and ground his teeth into his lip, tried not to slam into the boy—it was like bathing in fire…it was the most amazing moment of his life. It was—he arched his back and gasped, “God, Clark,” and slammed home.

Clark screamed and pushed back, shoved back, fucked back like his life depended on it and Lex felt his balls draw up, felt his blood boiling, his heart hammering, for a moment he was almost certain he was going to die, ---he felt Clark clamp around him, felt his dick pulse and jerk as he came, shooting over the sheets, his hand, god—that was it, the breaking point, everything Lex was exploded and melted and blew out his dick. His throat was raw and aching and he realized he was screaming—fuck—screaming! He didn’t ever scream….

But it seemed yeah, he did—he screamed "I love you Clark", until he couldn’t speak at all, and Clark kept thanking him, over and over and…yeah.

It really, really could get better.

27 _On The Road To Miltown--_

Their departure date had arrived. They were up bright and early, the air was still cool, and the sun was just beginning to peek through the narrow street. Clark knew better to cast a even a single glance towards the small mountain of luggage sitting on the dolly in front of the hotel —he told Lex he was over that silly notion that it would disappear forever unless he had his hand on it, but still…he and Marlene were eyeing each other like gunslingers on the sidewalk.

They circled each other slowly while Lex was absorbed in conversation with the driver—Clark felt like he was in that movie, The Quick and The Dead, or something like that—only Marlene was a hell of a lot scarier than Sharon Stone…suddenly she smiled at him, and it was like the sun breaking through the clouds, and at that moment Lex turned to them with a smile on his face. “Ready?”

Marlene waited while Clark and Lex got into the rear of the limo, and turned to sit up front with the driver but Lex called her back. “I have something I want to discuss with you, Marlene.”

“Of course Mr. Alexander,” she smiled and miles of leg slid onto the leather seat, and Clark thought, gay, yes—but still, those are great legs. She smiled benevolently at him and he blushed. Lex watched the little scene with his lips pursed. Not annoyed but not completely amused. Maybe a tiny, tiny bit jealous, and Clark smiled. He liked for Lex to be a wee bit jealous. Later, he could apologize to him, and Lex could forgive him, if he was lucky, he’d forgive him until his knees buckled. Clark leaned back and grinned.

Oh, yee-ah, such forgiving would occur, forgiving until they were sweaty and sticky and wet and—damn!   
He was going home—there’d be no forgiving whenever he wanted it—he’d have to wait now and that sucked hard. Crap—he had to sleep by himself now, and there wasn’t going to be a slippery, slinky, Lex to shower with and to kiss him even before he brushed his teeth and tell him that he was beautiful….

He frowned and rolled his head towards the window as the beautiful county-side rolled by at a steady clip.

Lex seemed to know what was bothering him. He slid a little closer until they were pressed against each other all down the side of their bodies, from shoulder to hip to thigh to knee. He whispered, “It doesn’t matter how far apart we are, we’re always together.”

Clark smiled a little. It was still a little surprising how romantic Lex could be when he wanted to. Clark snuggled closer, mollified now, and ready for what came next. Somewhat.

Lex turned his attention to Marlene, who’d been waiting politely on the opposite seat for Lex to explain his desire for her presence.

“You know, I’m very impressed with your performance. You’ve done more than I asked, much more. You’ve taken the appropriate amount of initiative, added little surprises that were very pleasant--”  
Marlene and Clark smiled at each other. “I’d like you to look over this.” Lex handed her a folder. “LexCorp is a growing company, and I need competent—no, I need people who are way above average. I want you.” He looked at her and waited, his head tilted slightly and a small smile curving his lips. Clark figured no way could she refuse that look—he couldn’t.

She smiled. “Thank you, sir; it was my pleasure to be of service. I enjoyed doing this. It was…fun.” She smiled and opened the folder and read the top sheet, smiled a fraction of an inch wider. _Good God Almighty, that’s a lot of money._

Lex nodded at her. “Of course, I know you have a lot to think about.” _I want you bad but not in that way._ Call the office on Monday—I’ll be in all day. By the way, I’ve included a package that should help facilitate your move—if you choose to join our family.” He smiled widely. _carrot carrot carrot_

She skimmed the pages and huffed. “You’re offering an apartment in the Lexcorp tower? Right under the executive apartments I see.” _wait a minute-you want a fucking slave!_ She frowned slightly at him. “And that means?”

 _for that money? Hell yeah you’re my slave._ It means that you’d be on call, to handle emergencies and special projects—but of course it’s not something that would be abused." _much._

Clark looked at Lex from the corner of his eyes; he couldn’t be serious, could he? But by the look on Marlene’s face, he was. Her face relaxed and smoothed out, the smile she gave him had a lot of teeth in it, Clark thought.

 _we’ll just see about that, buddy-boy_ “We’ll talk about that.”

Lex nodded. “I’ve taken the liberty of checking with friends of mine who own galleries—I believe your partner runs an art gallery? Relocating to the States might be easier on her if she has the assurance of being able to continue doing what she enjoys.” _I’ll make your girlfriend happy_

Marlene cocked her head at Lex. “You’ve thought about a lot of things, haven’t you? I’m sure it would appeal to her.” _if she’s happy I’m happy…it might work_

Clark looked at the two of them. It seemed some accord was reached, they both looked happy. The weird thing was as far as Clark could see, Lex just admitted that he’d checked out her whole life. He wondered how often Lex did that—and why it didn’t make Marlene nervous. Maybe she expected it. She might, after all, she worked for Lionel. She was probably ready for anything.

Lex leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, and Clark listened to the sound of his breathing slowly even out until he was sure Lex was napping. He turned to Marlene, who was going over the papers, alternately frowning and smiling. "So, do you think you’ll like working for Lex?’

Marlene glanced up at him. “Haven’t decided.”

“Oh, yes you have,” he grinned and she snorted. “And I’m glad you’ll be working for him. He needs someone like you, obviously.”

She shook her head. “Still thinking. He wants a lot.”

“He does, but he’s worth it. Just go with it. He’s…an irresistible force”

“I prefer to think implacable.” Lex’s eyes were still closed but he was smiling. Clark rolled his eyes at Marlene and mouthed ‘evil’ before reaching over and cradling Lex’s hand in his own.

Clark was happy to be on land once more, good old miles of solid earth beneath his feet, and a lot of sky over his head, exactly where it should be. Flying wasn’t as unbearable for him as it was for some people, but it wasn’t an activity he could recommend as a fun time, that was certain.   
He turned his head up to the sun, closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

Home.

Kansas.

Hot as hell and grossly humid and it smelled…what the hell had happened while he was gone?

Lex was at his elbow and murmured, “It takes a few days to get used to it again.” He patted him on the shoulder and then—did that horrible smoothing away thing. It made him angry for a moment. Was he going to pretend things were different now that they were back? He growled, “Lex--”

“Shhh. Your mom and dad are over there. Let’s go.”

His heart spiked in excitement—yes, there they were, there was the old Roadmaster, and there was Mom sitting on the hood and there was Dad, waving both hands like crazy.

Clark trotted over and was meet by his parents; they collided into a moving mass of hugs.

“Mom! Dad! God, I missed you guys so much! I missed you!” he was covered with kisses by his mom, kisses he tried to return between laughing, and his dad threw his arms around him and squeezed him, laughing too.

“You guys, why are you here? Lex was going to bring me home.” He couldn’t stop smiling at them, he didn’t care how goofy he looked when he smiled like that—it felt too good to see his folks.

“We missed you too much, honey—we just couldn’t wait.” She just kept smiling back at Clark and when Lex appeared at Clark’s side, she included him too.

“That’s right son,” his dad beamed. “We couldn’t wait—and look who we brought!”

Lana leaned out of the open backseat door of the old Buick and waved. Jonathan continued, “Yep, she just couldn’t wait to see you either.”

Martha rolled her eyes and mouthed, ‘Sorry’ at the two of them, Clark blushed and scowled and Lex just smiled benignly, and Clark could see how it hurt him, even Jonathan could see that that little smile cost Lex—he blushed deeply, slowly held out his hand and said, “I’m glad to see you home safe and sound again, Lex.”

Lex took his hand and said, “Thank you sir.”

Jonathan sighed and said all in a rush, “We–look-forward-to seeing-you-a lot-at dinner-now-” he stopped and let out a breath before going on a little slower, “especially since...you know…”

Lex cocked an eyebrow and said politely, “I beg your pardon? I’m not sure I understand…”

Jonathan turned even redder and Martha bit her lip and *her* cheeks turned red.

Clark gawked at his dad--what the heck *had* gone on while he was away? Dad was—he was actually trying to be cool—Clark couldn’t even *imagine* what that had cost him. He glanced over at his mom, who was eyeing Dad like a walker at a dog show. This would so not be the time to snicker, out loud anyway…

This---this thing, this moment that he’d dreaded since the beginning was turning out to be… rather entertaining, as Lex would say. Mom elbowed him as Dad went on with his little speech.

Jonathan made a small strangled sound and said, “Since you and Clark…since you …and Clark… are--”

Lex smiled and let him off the hook. “Yes. Thank you, I’d love to come for dinner, whenever it’s convenient for the three of you, sir.”

Jonathan shrugged and laughed, a little shaky and weak, but not unfriendly. “Well, now—no need to wait for an invite, you just come, okay. And call me Jonathan, son. We’re past all that.”

Clark didn’t think there was any way he could love his dad more at that moment, and when his dad looked over and caught his eye, it rocked him. He saw what he kind of took for granted all his life, he saw just how much his dad loved him back.   
It was…amazing.

And then Lex was smothered up in a tight hug, and Clark grinned as his boyfriend was being kissed and sized up and poked and prodded and tsked at just like he’d been. Martha finally stepped back, patted his arm and smiled up at him, “Welcome back, dear, welcome back!”

Clark sighed. It was like a big fuzzy bubble was expanding in his chest—looking at the barely concealed delight _and relief_ on Lex’s face made him feel all warm and weepy. And speaking of girly….  
Clark glanced over at Lana and waved, and then--he hugged Lex good-bye for a while, and kissed his cheek—best not to crack the ice his dad was standing on—and whispered that he loved him in his ear. It may have involved a bit of moisture, and a little heat--

His mom was smiling and blushing a bit when he finally let go of an equally pink Lex, and his dad was coughing and shuffling his feet—but-- smiling. A little painful, a little too bright, but at least it was undeniably a smile. _Great—we might all survive this after all!_ Clark smiled happily at his family.

Lana sat in the car and a tiny line creased the bride of her nose. She waited for Clark to come over; after all, she didn’t want to disturb his family time. They were talking, hugging, laughing…Clark waved at her, and she raised her hand to wave back but his back was already turned, and she could see him hug Lex…a long time. A full body hug, and now Clark’s head was on Lex’s shoulder….  
What did it all mean?

28 _It Was The Best Vacation Ever…_

“Pete!” Clark yelled happily when his friend appeared at the top of the loft stairs. “Where have you been?”

Pete hopped over the pile of papers and boxes blocking the way and hugged Clark hard. “Clark! Damn-I missed you, boy!” he pulled away and looked Clark up and down. “So, Europe was a good thing for you—you look great!”

“You too, Pete—how’d your summer go?” Clark swept some more junk off of the couch and gestured for Pete to take a seat. He plopped down and grabbed the enormous bag of chips on the couch next to him.

“Great—hey--got another? He pointed at the soda dripping condensation onto the trunk in front of them and Clark grabbed one from a cooler behind the couch and tossed it to him. “So—what do you want to know about first, the slave job from hell, or the fact that…ah-hem…I got laid?” Pete grinned, his eyes sparkling as he waited for Clark to speak.

Clark’s eyes lit up, “Wow, Pete—tell me all about the job!”

“Asshole!”

“What?” Clark smirked and Pete grinned and told him all about a certain clerk and a cloakroom….

“Damn,” Clark shook his head,” you sure were busy this summer.”

Pete grinned, “Shit, Clark, I was the definition of busy…Pete Ross is a pimp, boy!”

“Ah. Two girlfriends over the summer does not make you a pimp, and what did we say about country boys and the gangster rapper music?”

“Ahh…fuck you Clark, you’re just *jealous*! And that means you did not get the pussy whilst in the wilds of Europe. Hatin’ ‘cause you didn’t get any and I did—hah!” Pete punctuated his sentence by noisily finishing off his soda and crushing the can, and gracing Clark with a huge grin.

Clark swallowed and started, “Ah-hah…about that, Pete…”

Pete looked at Clark expectantly and Clark blushed and smiled weakly. “We’re friends right?” Pete nodded, still smiling. “And I can tell you anything, right?” Pete nodded again. Of course. “And it won’t matter to our friendship, righ--”

Pete’s smile died, “ Motherfucker, you better be telling me about a new power, I swear--”at Clark’s devastated look, he jumped up and yelled. “No! No! Tell me I’m thinking crazy shit, tell me I’m wrong—Clark! Clark—Lex? And –ew,ew,ew! Fuck! No, man…” He dropped back to the couch and stared at Clark with a look that would do a basilisk proud.

Clark stared back, eyes narrowed and frowning hard. “I’m not apologizing and I’m not experimenting and I’m sure about this and this is the way it is--take it or leave it.” His heart was pounding by the time he stopped and he felt a little breathless. He waited for Pete to tell him to fuck off—drop dead—whatever.

Pete jumped up and stalked to the stair without looking back. He took a step down. “FUCK!” and came back.

“Okay man, here it is. I can’t not be your friend, I just wish…well it doesn’t matter what I wish. But it’s your life and I gotta say, you do look happy and I guess that counts for…a lot.”

Clark beamed and leaned over to hug Pete, but pulled back at some little—thing-- in his eyes. _oh well, Pete was trying at least._ It kind of hurt, and he started to lean away when Pete suddenly, violently, hugged him back, gave him a hard squeeze before letting him go. “We’re partners Clark, ever since we were brats. I’ll just have to get used to it, right? Learn to say ‘Lex’ instead of ‘Jerkboy.’ ”  
“What?”

Oh! Heh! Don’t pay any attention to that. So, um, how’s Pop taking it?”

“You know what? I’m surprised he’s taking it as well as he has. I really expected blood and screaming and shot guns but he’s kind of sort of all right with it.”

“You’re so fucking lucky, Clark.”

Clark nodded and felt a little prick of tears in his eyes. “I know Pete, I really am, to have such great family, *and* friends.”

Pete just nodded and said, “And man, just so you know—I don’t ever want to know, you know?”

Clark grinned, “Yeah, I know—Chloe on the other hand…”

“You told her?”

“Man, she dragged it out of me! It was awful, she kept calling me Frank Nitti and calling herself Elliot Ness—who the heck are they?” Pete shrugged and Clark went on. “God it was like being grilled by Elliot Stabler, only nowhere near as much sweaty fun as that would be--”

“Hey, hey, hey--what did I just tell you! No knowing! None! No knowing of any kind!”

Clark laughed. “You crack me up, Pete, you really do!”

Pete just smiled back and concentrated on finishing Clark’s chips.

Epilogue  
 _And It Was Very Educational…_

 

 _So…would you like to have the real graduation gift now?_

 _Oh, yes…did I tell you I’m sorry about that?_

 _God, don’t ever be. Would we be here now?_

 _I guess maybe not…can I see it? Is that it? The wrapping’s kind of…beat up…_

 _Yeah, well, I’ve been carrying around for a while. Open it._

 _Gee, Lex…a watch—oh! It looks like yours…wow…_

 _The face is Lady Liberty. It was minted in the year you were born—see? Do you… like it?_

 _Yeah. Yeah, I do. I want you put it on for me. But first let me—ummm…_

 _Clark! Oh my god, where did you learn to do that?_

 _You like it? It’s what I learned on my summer vacation…_

FIN  
9-1-05

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Mecurtain, Justabi, and The SV Reading Club, the ladies who always had time to read my stuff way back then. :)


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